Three, Four, Six, One
by Musicangel913
Summary: Three Hallows. Four rings. Six Horcruxes. One winner. Twisted canon, part 7.
1. Toasts

**A/N: Welcome to the 7th & final part of my twisted canon series! If you're new to the series, hop on over to my profile & start at the beginning, if you will, with 'Circumstances of an Unexpected Trio'. If you've already read parts 1-6, welcome back, & enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Well…who's going to open it?" Ginny asked breathlessly. She, Harry, Hermione, and Draco all stared at the little wooden box on the floor of their compartment of the Hogwarts Express, then turned and looked at one another.

"I'll do it," Draco finally answered. "Just in case there are any pureblood-only charms on it or some such rubbish."

"If there are pureblood-only charms on it, I could still open it," Ginny pointed out.

"Then let's say I'm being chivalrous," Draco replied. Ginny snorted.

"A Gryffindor in a Slytherin's uniform," she sing-songed. "Salazar must be rolling in his grave."

"I've had plenty of purely Slytherin moments to effectively negate such an insane claim, Ginevra," Draco said haughtily, sticking his nose in the air.

"Oh, shut up – you sound like Percy," Ginny said, causing Harry and Hermione to burst into laughter. "Just open the damn thing, will you? The suspense is killing me." Draco took a moment to pout and stuck his tongue out at Ginny before dropping to his knees on the floor in front of the box. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Here goes nothing," he said, and he flipped open the box. The interior of the box was lined with cushy velvet in a deep shade of sapphire, and on that velvet rested a golden locket, its lid decorated with an elaborate _S._

"It's so pretty," Ginny said admiringly.

"It's so familiar," Harry added, his mouth turning down in a frown. "Why do I feel like I've seen it before?"

"You saw it in the memories of the Gaunts," Hermione reminded him gently. Harry shook his head.

"No, no – I feel like I've seen it somewhere else. Actually seen it, I mean, not just through someone else's memory."

"Can you take it out of the box, Draco?" Ginny asked. Draco hesitantly reached forward and brushed his fingers over the locket's smooth front, scooping it up into his palm when it didn't resist his touch. He held it up to the light and examined it from every angle.

"Hang on," he said suddenly. "There's a catch here."

"A catch?" Harry asked, looking interested. "Like you can open it?"

"Do we _want_ to open it?" Ginny looked worried. "What exactly is inside a Horcrux? And would it be inside the locket, or worked within the metal?"

"Dunno. I s'pose we won't know unless we try." Ginny still looked nervous, but Harry motioned for Draco to try, and so Draco pressed his thumb against the catch he'd found on the side of the locket. Instantly, it sprang open. Save for a piece of parchment tucked within the inner cavity, it was empty.

"What's that?" Harry asked. Draco removed the parchment slip and unfolded it. He read the message once…twice…three times…

"Draco?" Hermione asked, looking concerned. "Is everything alright?" Draco's fair complexion had gone even paler as he read, and he was still staring at the parchment as if in disbelief. Instead of answering, Draco handed over the parchment. The three Gryffindors put their heads together so they could all read the message, which was written in flowing script:

 _To the Dark Lord:_

 _You fool – did you really think that moving the locket to a different location would keep it safe, especially when I have such easy access to its new hiding place? The original thief isn't the only Black with a conscience._

 _N.C.B.M._

"N.C.B.M.," Hermione murmured. Her eyes then widened in recognition. _"No…_ it's not…is it?" She looked to Draco for confirmation.

"I know that handwriting well," he said. "I'd be a fool not to, considering the number of times I've read that letter from my mother. N.C.B.M. – Narcissa Cedrella Black Malfoy."

"Your mother _stole_ the locket?" Ginny gasped. "Merlin, that was a gutsy move."

"Not only that," Harry reminded her, "but her note suggests it had been done before – she specifically says the locket was originally hidden somewhere else."

"Where?" Draco wondered aloud.

"That doesn't matter," Hermione said dismissively. "What really matters is, where is it now? Because I think it's obvious that this locket is a fake. And who stole it originally? She said the first thief was a Black as well."

"You're not suggesting _Sirius_ stole it?" Harry asked, a look of shock crossing his face.

"Of course not," Hermione retorted. "How would Sirius have known about the locket in the first place? He's not a Death Eater, and he never was."

"But the rest of his family certainly identified with Voldemort's goals," Draco reminded them, "and we know that at least a select few in the inner circle knew about the Horcruxes – well, they didn't necessarily know that they were _Horcruxes,_ but they knew the objects were important. After all, Lucius was originally entrusted with the diary, and Wormtail knew enough about its magical properties to know that it could do quite a bit of damage in the wrong hands. My mother might have known about the diary, so it stands to reason that she might have known about the locket as well. And even if she didn't, there's always a chance she stumbled across it by accident – that trapdoor opens without restriction for any Malfoy."

"We need to talk to Sirius when we get home," Hermione said firmly. "Find out if he knows anything about this. We don't necessarily have to tell him about the Horcruxes, but he's our best bet for getting more information about the Blacks."

"Keep in mind that he left home when he was only sixteen, Maya," Harry warned.

"We still need to try," Hermione insisted. "He might know something important."

"It can't hurt to ask," Ginny agreed. "The worst he can say is that he doesn't know anything and we have to look into it ourselves."

"But that's the problem," Harry said then. "We don't know anything either." Hermione looked up at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What I mean," Harry said, "is that Dumbledore basically left us with nothing. Haven't you ever thought about it, Maya? For all those meetings that we had this year, what do we know? The locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and two other unknown objects became Horcruxes. The diary and the ring are both former Horcruxes. But that's all we know. We have absolutely no idea where any of the remaining Horcruxes are – we don't even know _what_ two of them are – and we haven't the faintest idea how to destroy them, either. Let me know if you disagree, but I don't think a simple _Finite Incantatem_ is going to work on a Horcrux – I have a feeling we need something both very powerful and very rare, and I don't know where to even begin looking for answers. Am I the only one who sees how little we have to work with?" The others were silent for a long moment as they processed Harry's words.

"It does seem rather daunting, doesn't it?" Hermione said quietly. "And we already know there's nothing in the Hogwarts library about Horcruxes – I've combed the entire restricted section, and the only mention of Horcruxes I found was a book about the Dark Arts that called Horcruxes so Dark they wouldn't even speak of them."

"I think we do need to tell someone about the Horcruxes," Ginny said.

"Why?" Draco asked, looking curious.

"Did Dumbledore ever expressly say not to?" she replied. "Look, I know he was all about the secrecy, but we need to be realistic – we have _no_ idea what we're up against, and nothing in either prophecy said anything about four teenagers needing to destroy the most evil of magical things without any help. We know who we can trust and who we can't – I think it's safe to say we can make a good choice regarding who to tell."

"It's definitely worth thinking about," Harry agreed.

"Whatever happened with Ron, Ginny?" Hermione asked, not wanting to talk about Horcruxes any longer. They hadn't seen the youngest Weasley boy much since his meeting with Snape, and as a result, they didn't know what punishment he'd been given for ripping open Draco's chest with a curse. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Seventy-five points lost, and he has detention every night for the first month of next term," she said. "He's lucky there was no proof that he was cheating in class – apparently the book was absolutely covered in notes that made the potions more effective, easier to brew, what have you, and would have almost guaranteed him straight O's in Slughorn's class if he'd followed them. If he'd been found guilty of cheating, they could've forced him to repeat the year or even expelled him."

"We'll be needing a new starting Keeper, then," Harry said. "If Ron can't practice until October at the earliest, that won't do us much good when the season starts in November – we can't go an entire month working without a Keeper." Ginny shrugged.

"Serves him right," she said. "He should've done his research before using an unknown spell, the idiot. Honestly, if Snape hadn't been there, what would've happened to Draco?"

"I don't exactly want to think about that, thanks ever so much," Draco said drily. "I rather like the fact that I'm alive, you know."

"I've been thinking about that," Hermione said, looking pensive. "How _did_ Snape know the counter-curse, anyway? None of us had ever even heard of that spell before, but he knew exactly what to do and jumped in right away."

"I don't know," Ginny said slowly.

"Don't forget that Snape was a Death Eater before we were born," Draco reminded them. "It's entirely possible he's encountered that curse before, perhaps while working with them."

"But why would a Death Eater spell be written in a Potions textbook?" Hermione wondered.

"Why would _any_ spell be written in a Potions textbook?" Ginny corrected her. "You hardly ever use even the most basic of spells in Potions class, most recipes don't require wand work."

"As usual, too many questions, not enough answers," Harry said with a groan. "Is it ok with you lot if we just drop this for a while? My head's going to explode if I think about this much longer."

"Food trolley's here anyway," Hermione said as the witch who pushed said cart knocked on their compartment door. "Let's get something to eat and play snap."

The rest of the afternoon passed amidst games of snap and chess along with conversations with friends who popped into their compartment to say hello. Draco and Tracey had a lengthy chat pertaining to their plans regarding dissolving their marriage contract, and Neville told them all about the advanced Herbology work he hoped to do at a nearby greenhouse over the summer. By the time the train pulled into Kings Cross, they were all a bit more relaxed than they'd been upon leaving Hogwarts, but they were more than ready for dinner and a good night's sleep. Draco carefully packed the locket back into its box and the box into his bag, and he followed Harry, Hermione, and Ginny across Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, meeting up with Ron halfway before reaching the spot where Sirius and Mr. Weasley stood waiting.

"Where's my dad?" Hermione asked, looking confused. "I thought he was coming here with you?"

"Not this time," Sirius said. "I Apparated, because we're going to the Burrow tonight – Order meeting now that you're all home."

"Order meeting? At the Burrow?" Harry repeated. "But the Burrow isn't Headquarters…"

"Not now," Sirius said impatiently. "It's not safe – I'll explain when we get there. Grab your trunks and hold on." Harry and Draco told hold of Sirius' outstretched hands while the girls and Ron went with Mr. Weasley, and with twin _pops,_ they disappeared from the platform.

Harry, as usual, felt nauseous upon landing on the Burrow's front lawn, but he managed to quell the dizziness and stay on his feet. Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Ginny steadied themselves in turn and looked up at the crooked, but welcoming, façade of the Weasley family home. They could feel protective wards surrounding the house, wards that had most certainly not been there the last time they'd visited, and they suspected the Burrow's security had been vastly upgraded.

"So why are we meeting at the Burrow?" Harry asked again.

"Because our Secret-Keeper is dead," Sirius replied. "Dumbledore was Secret-Keeper for Grimmauld Place, and until we can re-perform the spell with a new Secret-Keeper, we can't guarantee that the house is safe. Kingsley, McGonagall, and Flitwick have been looking into it, but it's an extremely complex charm, and they've been practicing on smaller things first – McGonagall concealed the location of her biscuit tin the other day, for instance. They want to make sure they have the charm perfect before they cast it on such an important location."

"So is the Burrow under the Fidelius now?" Ginny asked.

"No," Mr. Weasley replied. "We've strengthened the wards around all of the Order safe houses in the last week, though, so we'll have plenty of warning if anyone unpleasant comes calling." The thought of fleeing from Death Eaters was far from comforting, but protection wards were better than nothing at all, and so they followed Sirius and Mr. Weasley into the house.

"Come in, dears," Mrs. Weasley called as she bustled in from the kitchen, giving each of them a hug in turn. Hermione was delighted to see that her father was there – Sirius must have Apparated him over to the Burrow before going to Kings Cross – and leapt into his arms for a long embrace, which he returned while fondly stroking his daughter's hair.

"Dinner's almost ready, so you just get yourselves settled in," Mrs. Weasley said before disappearing once more. The teenagers immediately set to greeting everyone who was already in the house, and the Burrow was soon filled with lively conversation that only continued when they all sat down to eat.

"Tonks, what is that?" Hermione asked suddenly, interrupting a discussion about Fred and George's latest line of tricks. Tonks turned to Hermione and grinned.

"What is what, Hermione?" she asked, though she'd seen exactly what Hermione was looking at.

"That!" Hermione pointed at Tonks' left hand, and the others gasped as they noticed the sparkling ring on her third finger.

"Why, my dear Miss Granger, I do believe you're smart enough to recognize an engagement ring when you see one," Tonks said, tossing her a wink.

"You're getting married?" Harry yelped. "When? To who?" Sirius looked across at Tonks.

"You mean you didn't tell them?" he asked with a smirk.

"Will somebody please explain what the bloody hell's going on?" Ginny demanded.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking aghast, but Tonks just laughed.

"Remus and I are getting married in mid-July," she said.

"You and Remus…wait a minute, since when are you and Lupin even together?" Harry demanded.

"Since Christmas," Tonks replied. When the teenagers still looked confused, she said, "Did I not mention that in any of my letters? Whoops."

"Tonks, you totally did that on purpose!" Ginny accused.

"Me? Never!" Tonks winked again.

"Seriously, Tonks?" Draco said with a laugh. His face then morphed into a warm smile. "Congratulations, cousin."

"Thank you!"

Draco's declaration and Tonks' subsequent response broke the spell of shock over the table, and everyone who hadn't already known began congratulating the couple, exclaiming over the ring, and asking eager questions about the wedding. Tonks and Lupin answered them all in good spirits, and the Burrow's cramped eating area was filled with laughter and happy chatter as they processed this latest news.

"A toast!" Harry called out, raising his glass. "To Lupin and Tonks!"

"To Lupin and Tonks!" everyone echoed, and they all drank.

The Order meeting itself began after dinner, but not much of importance was discussed. Kingsley updated everyone on his group's progress with the Fidelius Charm, and Mr. Weasley made sure everyone knew the complete list of safe houses should an evacuation or abandonment of any one location ever be necessary. There was no new information regarding the Death Eaters who'd attacked Hogwarts or Voldemort's whereabouts, and the meeting concluded within an hour. As it was late and everyone was tired, Harry, Hermione, and Draco bid their friends goodnight and returned to Surrey with Sirius and Bob Granger, collapsing into bed not long after.

The trio spent most of the following week at the Burrow, only returning to Surrey late in the evening. Ten days after their return home, Sirius came to them with good news.

"Madam Pomfrey's finally given Bill the all-clear to come home," he said. "He woke up the day after you all left Hogwarts, but she wanted to keep him there for a bit so she could monitor his condition, just in case something got worse or went wrong. He'll be staying at the Burrow for now, and Mrs. Weasley's throwing a party to celebrate his homecoming this weekend."

"That's wonderful news!" Hermione said brightly, and Harry and Draco readily agreed.

That weekend, the Surrey contingent Apparated back to the Burrow – Draco had passed his test shortly after they'd returned home, and so now only Harry needed to Side-Along – and found the house full of lively chatter and laughter. Bill was already there, sipping a glass of what appeared to be firewhisky as he roared with laughter at Fred and George's antics.

"Good to see you, Bill!" Harry said as he crossed the room and clapped the eldest Weasley brother on the back. Bill grinned.

"Hello to you all!" he replied. "It's good to be home."

"How are you feeling?" Hermione inquired.

"Not bad at all, thank you, Hermione. Could do without this, of course" – he gestured to the scars riddling his face – "but I'm alive, and that's the important part. Just don't overcook my steaks, I won't eat them." Hermione burst into laughter, and the lighthearted conversation continued.

For the second time in two weeks, the friends found themselves sitting down to a Molly Weasley feast, and they talked and celebrated as they enjoyed the many dishes covering the long wooden table. Just as they were about to help themselves to dessert, Bill stood and tapped his glass.

"I just wanted to say thank you," he said, "to all of you who've been there for me over the last few weeks, especially to Remus, who's been there to answer all my questions and reassure me that my life hasn't gone to hell on a hippogriff, and to my beautiful Fleur, who never once left my side and only reaffirmed her love with every squeeze of her hand." Fleur smiled softly as Bill took her hand in his.

"I was going to do this differently, but now I can't think of a better moment," he said quietly. Sinking down onto one knee, he removed a small velvet box from his pocket, and all the women gasped as he popped it open to reveal the beautiful ring within.

"I already knew that you loved me, but the moments you spent by my bedside these last few weeks completely cemented my belief that I will never meet anyone half as perfect as you," Bill began. Hermione and Ginny's eyes were already watering, and Fleur had brought her hands to her mouth in shocked silence. "You could have easily walked away in disgust when you saw what that monster did to me, but instead, you gripped my hand even tighter and nursed my wounds, refusing to leave even when your own exhaustion betrayed you – and yes, dearest, I heard every word you said when I was unresponsive. That kind of love can't be created – it's the stuff of fairytales, and yet I'm somehow lucky enough to experience it for real. Fleur, will you do me the honor of sharing that love with me every day for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?" Everyone awaited Fleur's response with bated breath.

 _"Oui,"_ she whispered as her emotions finally got the better of her and her tears spilled over. "Of course I will marry you, _mon amour._ Nothing would make me 'appier." The ecstatic smile Bill gave her in response made him look as though he'd never met Greyback at all.

Cheers and catcalls broke out up and down the table as Bill removed the ring from its box and slipped it onto Fleur's waiting hand, and George whistled loudly as the couple shared a kiss. Hermione and Ginny furiously wiped away their tears as they clapped along with everyone else, and nobody quite understood what anyone else said for the next several minutes as they all clambered to congratulate the happy couple.

"A toast!" Harry called out, echoing his actions at the announcement of Tonks and Lupin's wedding a mere fortnight previously. "To Bill and Fleur!"

"To Bill and Fleur!"

* * *

 **A/N: A little bit of fluff to start off part 7 - can't have _everything_ be all dark  & depressing, now can we?**

 **A sincere welcome back to all of you - can you believe that at this time last year, I was only midway through part 2? We're in the home stretch now! & in case you're curious, I have about 6 other stories dying to be written once I'm done with this one, so if you care to stick around after this little saga concludes, I'll have plenty more to keep you entertained. ;)**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	2. The Wedding is Off

Two days after Bill came home, Draco received a letter from Tracey, which contained two sheets of parchment. The first sheet was a formal invitation to tea for that Thursday afternoon, and the second was a quick note from Tracey:

 _Dear Draco,_

 _Sorry for the formal invite, but Carina insisted – she really is ridiculous sometimes. Anyway, I think now's as good a time as any to take care of business, as it were – ready to put your Malfoy side to work? I've got some news that I can't wait to share with you. Let me know as soon as you can if you can come, and say hi to everyone for me._

 _Tracey_

"Tracey says hi," Draco said, passing the note over to Hermione so she could read it.

"I wonder what her news is," Hermione murmured as she scanned the note and passed it to Harry.

"No idea," Draco replied. "I'm sure she'll tell me as soon as she can, especially as it sounds like it's related to the contract."

"Maybe she got us a table at a posh Wizarding restaurant to celebrate afterwards," Harry chuckled as he returned the letter to Draco.

"Spend five minutes with her father and you'll understand why when I say that Tracey isn't very likely to book anything considered 'posh'," Draco said with a snort. "'Pompous' is that man's middle name – and considering we all know Percy Weasley, that's saying something." He glanced at Ginny and added, "No offense, Gin." Ginny scoffed

"It's hard to be offended when you speak the truth," she said. "Until my idiot brother gets his act together and feels like rejoining the family, you can call him whatever you want." She paused and continued, "Although to be frank, even if he does come back, you can still call him a pompous prat."

"No word from him, then?" Hermione asked sympathetically. Ginny shook her head.

"Not a single owl," she replied. "It's kind of sad, but Mum's really the only one who cares – Dad just ignores him on the few occasions they see one another at work, and the twins want nothing more than to hit him with some of their joke shop merchandise. I'm just worried that something's going to happen and he won't be able to come back."

"Like what, Gin?" Harry asked, scooting closer so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. Ginny snorted.

"I'm not deaf, you know – I hear what goes on in the Order meetings," she said. "The Ministry's getting weaker by the day, and most of the elite Order members agree that it's only a matter of time before it's taken over completely. Dad'll be alright because he's aware of the possibility and knows how to deal with it, but if Percy doesn't see reason before then…he'll _have_ to play along by that point, or he'll be in serious danger." Ginny bit her lower lip and looked at the floor, and the trio exchanged glances. In spite of Ginny's animosity towards her older brother's actions, they could tell that she'd be quite shaken up if Percy ever landed in such a situation. No matter their differences, family was extremely important to the Weasleys, and when one of them was in trouble, they all felt it acutely. The recent situation with Bill was a prime example of that.

"It'll be alright, Gin," Harry said softly, squeezing her shoulders in comfort. "Even if Percy's views are a bit messed up, he's still smart – he'll know what to do to keep himself safe."

"I hope you're right," Ginny murmured back. She sighed and reached for the letter, which Draco had left on the floor.

"I need to talk about something other than Percy," she announced, her tone firm in spite of her lingering unease. "What's your game plan for Thursday, Draco?"

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, Draco dressed carefully in a set of dress robes he'd borrowed from Blaise – he would have been perfectly fine wearing nice Muggle clothes, but Tracey had suggested Wizarding attire as a way to unconsciously relax her father, thereby making it easier to execute their plan. Having always preferred Muggle suits, Draco didn't own any dress robes, but Blaise had plenty and was more than happy to supply him with some given the circumstances. Blaise was a bit broader in the shoulder, but Draco was taller, and so there wasn't much altering necessary before the deep blue robes fit the blond as if they'd been made for him all along.

"Not bad," Ginny said approvingly as she and Hermione entered the room. Draco smirked.

"Isn't that Lotte's line, Gin?" he asked. Ginny waved her hand at him in a dismissive fashion.

"Whatever. As much as your overinflated ego would like to think, we didn't come in here to admire you," she said.

"No?" Draco stuck his lower lip out in a pout.

"Oh, stop it, Dragon," Hermione said. "You look ridiculous when you do that. Now, let's put these on you, shall we?" She held up the velvet jewelry box she carried and popped it open, revealing a pair of gleaming silver cufflinks engraved with serpents.

"Borrowed them from Sirius," she explained as she removed the cufflinks from the box and helped Draco fasten them. "All of his family's heirloom jewelry is like that, of course, and he hasn't bothered to get a set of his own."

"Why did he even keep these?" Draco asked, holding up his hands so he could examine the accessories in a better light. Hermione shrugged.

"Maybe he decided he needed a set for special occasions?" she suggested. "It's not like we really know how Sirius' mind works, do we? Anyway, he had these – they were his brother's, I believe – and said you could use them. If you're trying to _play_ the part of a Slytherin, you need to _look_ the part of a Slytherin."

"I already am a Slytherin, love," Draco reminded her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I think you know what I mean, Draco," she said exasperatedly. Draco smiled softly and leaned down to brush his lips against hers before reaching behind her for a second jewelry box resting on his nightstand.

"I've never worn this, but I think now's a good time to bring it out," he said, opening the box. Inside was a golden signet ring, the Malfoy family crest clearly visible on top.

"One of the few heirlooms Mother made sure to pass along with me when I left the manor," he explained. "I have no use for the thing, but her letter insisted I had to have it – rightful property of the Malfoy heir, and all that." He picked up the ring and slid it on, studying the effect of the gold band against his pale skin.

"I don't think I like it much," he announced. "It's quite heavy and definitely not something I'd want to wear on an everyday basis – but it'll help with the 'perfect pureblood' image, so I'll keep it on for now." He stepped back and surveyed his reflection in the mirror at the far end of the room.

"Every inch the aristocrat," Hermione commented with a small smile. Draco grinned back and turned to face the girls.

"Let's go break an engagement, shall we?" he said. Ginny laughed and led the way downstairs, where Sirius and Harry were waiting in the sitting room.

"Not bad for a stuffy pureblood," Harry said with a smirk when he caught sight of his brother. Draco picked up the nearest pillow and chucked it at him.

"Shut up, you git."

"Ah, how times have changed," Sirius said, laughing a little. "Just think, Draco – if you hadn't left the manor, you'd be dressed like this on a daily basis." Draco grimaced.

"I think I'll pass," he said. "Muggle clothes are just fine, thanks very much."

"You should get going," Hermione said, nodding towards the clock. "Punctuality is important here, isn't it?"

"Quite," Sirius agreed. "Unless you're going for 'fashionably late', but since you're the only invited guest, I wouldn't recommend that route. Being fashionably late is perfectly appropriate for parties, especially if you're the type of snob who thinks they're better than everyone else-"

"Which pretty much describes the Malfoys to a T," Draco interrupted with a grin.

"Touché," Sirius laughed. "But you'll want to be on time in this case."

"Then I'd best be off," Draco said. He gave them all his best 'Malfoy smirk'.

"Wish me luck!" Tossing them a salute, he turned on the spot and vanished.

Draco made sure to stand up as straight as possible as he greeted Tracey's father with a firm handshake and followed his host into their sitting room. Tracey, Carina, and a boy Draco presumed was Tracey's half brother Benjamin were already there, and Tracey gave him a warm smile far more welcoming than anything the rest of her family offered.

"Good to see you, Draco," she said, reaching over to take his hand. Just as he'd done the first time he'd visited, Draco bowed low and kissed her knuckles.

"Likewise," he replied, giving her a wink once he was sure none of the others could see. He then took a seat beside Tracey on the sofa and instructed the house-elf, who was called Kiki, on how to prepare his tea. Draco made sure to be firm so the elder Davis couple wouldn't suspect anything – elite purebloods, after all, largely looked down on house-elves – but he kept his tone polite so the little elf would, hopefully, know that he didn't view her in the same disdainful manner.

"Your studies are going well, Mr. Black?" Mr. Davis inquired imperiously. Draco sipped his tea and nodded.

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Quite well. Of course, N.E.W.T. coursework is demanding, but it's all very interesting."

"And what subjects are you taking at N.E.W.T. level?" Mr. Davis pressed.

"Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Arithmancy," Draco recited. "And I'm doing a bit of Ancient Runes work on the side as well."

"Very good, very good," Mr. Davis said, apparently satisfied with Draco's response. "Now that's a proper course load, wouldn't you agree, Carina?"

"Indeed," Carina said haughtily. Draco didn't miss the subtle looks she and her husband gave Tracey, and he suspected their responses were digs at her own choices.

"Of course, I also used to take Care of Magical Creatures and quite enjoyed it, but unfortunately I wasn't able to continue with it," Draco added. It was a bit of a lie, as he'd really only liked that class on the rare occasion Hagrid showed them something that wasn't completely terrifying, but Tracey still gave him a grateful smile as Carina sniffed and selected a scone from the tea tray.

"I think your course load is quite complete without it," Mr. Davis said condescendingly. "In any case, it's high time we started discussing this wedding. You're about to begin your final year of school, after all, and these things do take time to plan, so if we're looking at next summer-"

"There won't be a wedding," Draco interrupted smoothly. Mr. Davis looked up at him in shock.

"I beg your pardon?"

"There isn't going to be a wedding," Draco repeated, doing his best to sound unaffected. "Not between your daughter and me, and certainly not so soon."

"Whatever do you mean, boy?" Mr. Davis demanded, dropping all pretenses of politeness. Draco didn't deign to honor him the eye contact he so obviously sought, choosing instead to examine his fingernails as if bored.

"Do I _really_ need to explain myself a third time?" he asked, putting on airs as if he'd done it all his life. "I thought I made myself quite clear the first two."

"But…but there's a contract!" Mr. Davis almost spluttered. "You _have_ to get married once you finish school."

 _"Au contraire,_ my good man, I think you'll find that we don't," Draco replied. He leaned forward so his elbows rested on his thighs and clasped his hands together. "Tell me, does the name Marianne Gardner mean anything to you?" He asked the question as if he'd merely asked Mr. Davis to pass the sugar, but the older man's reaction was anything but calm as he gasped and went white.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said quickly, but his first reaction had betrayed him.

"Oh, but I think you do," Draco said coolly. "You see, I did a little bit of research, _Max,_ and what I found was very interesting indeed. This marriage contract you spoke of was filed with the Ministry of Magic in late 1981 – not very interesting in and of itself, of course, but right on the heels of a divorce? Now _that's_ intriguing. Marianne Christina Gardner Davis was your first wife, and how fascinating it was to learn that she was not, in fact, a pureblood, but an adopted Muggle-born."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Mr. Davis said again, but he looked terrified. Draco merely raised an eyebrow and continued.

"A child came of this first union, one Tracey Renee Davis," he said, gesturing to the witch at his side. "Now, as I'm sure you're well aware, a child is only considered a pureblood if both of his or her parents are as well. Adopted by a pureblood couple though she was, Marianne Davis was still a Muggle-born by birth, which makes Tracey the product of a pureblood and a Muggle-born – in other words, a half-blood. Imagine my surprise, then, when I received a copy of a marriage contract clearly calling for a union between two _pureblooded_ children." Draco finally turned the full force of his gaze on Mr. Davis.

"I could overlook the mistake if it had been made in ignorance, but that is clearly not the case," he said. "The date on the contract is enough to prove that you were well aware of your daughter's true blood status when you contacted Lucius Malfoy about a potential marriage, but were clearly desperate enough to hide the ugly truth by binding her to an eligible – that is, pureblooded and wealthy, the more so the better – wizard as soon as possible. What, exactly, did you hope to gain by deliberately falsifying a legal document?"

"You know _nothing!"_ Mr. Davis spat, clearly thrown off by the almost lackadaisical disdain of the young man in front of him. Draco shrugged.

"In that case, I must say you have a rather interesting definition of 'nothing'," he replied. "And there's more, you know. You see, I don't care at all that Tracey's a half-blood – blood status means nothing to me and never will. But our tale is yet incomplete – the Davis family records indicate that that first marriage was dissolved without any legal or magical objections, and a second marriage entered into mere months later with a similar result. Unless I'm very much mistaken, there are only two ways to achieve such a thing – manipulation using Dark magic, or the death of a spouse." At Draco's last sentence, Mr. Davis' face went from white to green, making him look very sick indeed.

"Neither circumstance looks very good, does it?" Draco whispered. "That sort of Dark magic is illegal, of course, and then you're asking me to believe that your first wife just _happened_ to die at so convenient a time?"

"She was ill," Mr. Davis protested, but the attempt was feeble and everyone knew it. Draco snorted softly.

"I'll require a better explanation if I'm to believe you, I'm afraid," he said coldly. "Regardless, either situation comes with a hefty punishment, doesn't it?" Mr. Davis looked like he was about to faint.

"What do you want from me?" he managed to gasp.

"I want the contract dissolved, immediately," Draco said.

"But…but you just said blood status doesn't matter to you!" Mr. Davis protested. In spite of his obvious fright, he still managed to say 'blood status' as if it were a disgusting disease.

"I did," Draco acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you remove our right to choose. Tracey is a good friend of mine, but we've never been interested in one another romantically, and that isn't going to change. The contract needs to go."

"Or what?" Mr. Davis was clearly grasping at straws.

"Dissolve the contract, and I keep what I know to myself," Draco replied. Mr. Davis nearly choked.

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed.

"Don't think he won't," Tracey retorted, speaking for the first time.

"Keep out of this, Tracey," Mr. Davis snapped. Tracey snorted.

"I think not," she said, her tone icy. "After everything you did, and you still expect us to honor the contract? I'll go to the Ministry before even Draco can get there."

"Tracey Renee-"

"NO. You have _no_ right to speak to me like that anymore," Tracey said. "I will _not_ be the one to force Draco to marry me, and I will _not_ sit back and listen to you spout this crap or continue to hide what you know about my mother."

"Draco should be honored to marry you!" Mr. Davis said loudly.

"Draco should be disgusted at the prospect!" Tracey all but shouted back. "Just as I am disgusted with you! You kept everything you knew, about everything I _am,_ from me for my entire life, and you expect me to be ok with that? Dissolve that contract, or I will do _everything_ to make sure you get what you deserve."

"Tracey!" Carina scolded.

"Do you really think you can talk to me like that, Carina?" Tracey asked scornfully. "You've never acted like my mother, so don't start now." She stood up and took Draco's hand, pulling her to his feet beside her.

"You have twenty-four hours," she told her father coldly. "We'll be visiting the Ministry archives tomorrow afternoon – if the contract isn't gone by then, we have no problem taking a little detour before we leave. Draco might not be a Malfoy, but he still has plenty of contacts."

"And just where do you think you're going?" Mr. Davis demanded. Tracey gave a derisive little laugh.

"After all that, you really expect me to stay?" she asked. She removed her wand from within her robes and pointed it towards the open sitting room door. _"Accio_ luggage!" A moment's pause, and a number of large trunks floated down the stairs and neatly stacked themselves in the front entryway.

"Elsie!" Tracey called. With a _pop,_ a second house-elf appeared next to the trunks.

"Yes, Miss Tracey?" the elf asked.

"You know what to do," Tracey instructed.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Tracey, what are you doing?" Mr. Davis asked, this time sounding more concerned than reprimanding.

"Didn't I make myself clear the first time?" Tracey replied, echoing Draco's question from the start of the conversation. "I. Am. Leaving. I'm going to stay with my family."

"We're your family," Mr. Davis said.

"No. Families don't do things like this to one another. I have grandparents, grandparents I didn't even know existed until a few months ago, who are more than willing to accept me as I am. Until you can learn to do the same, you're not my family." Tracey clasped Draco's hand once more, preparing to Disapparate.

"Wait!" Mr. Davis shouted. "Wait, Tracey. Please." His tone was much softer than previously, and he almost looked lost.

"It's too late," Tracey replied quietly, though Draco could see the pity in her eyes. "You lost a woman you clearly loved because of something stupid, and now you've lost your daughter for the exact same reason. I can't forget this, but maybe, in time, I can forgive – but not until you learn to see beyond blood and are willing to tell me the truth."

"I'll dissolve the contract," Mr. Davis promised. Tracey nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "Draco and I are friends, but we have our own paths when it comes to love. Grant us that freedom, at least." It was Mr. Davis' turn to nod.

"I'm sorry, Tracey," he said.

"I'm sorry too," she replied. Without another word, she turned on the spot. The two teenagers landed in the lane on the edge of the Davis property, Tracey stopping to catch her breath.

"You alright?" Draco asked softly. He could see the tears welling in Tracey's eyes, and although Slytherins usually didn't offer one another such open affection, he drew her into a hug and let her cry.

"I shouldn't feel this bad," Tracey said once she'd stopped sniffling. "After everything he did to me…"

"He's still your father, Trace," Draco replied. He paused and added, "What was all that back there? Do you need a place to stay?"

"I wasn't kidding when I said my grandparents were willing to accept me," Tracey said. "We've been writing back and forth ever since that first letter, and they said that if I ever needed somewhere to go, I was more than welcome to stay with them – that was the news I mentioned in my note. I'll be heading there as soon as you've gone home."

"Do you need me to come with you?" Tracey shook her head.

"No, but thank you. Elsie is going to take me – she should be back soon. I'll send her to Hogwarts afterwards, I think she has a sister or a cousin or something who works there." As if on cue, the little house-elf popped into existence beside them.

"Is Miss Tracey ready to go?" Elsie asked.

"Just a minute, Elsie," Tracey said kindly. She turned back to Draco. "I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow after lunch – would you come with me?"

"Of course," Draco promised. He stepped closer and pressed a comforting kiss to her forehead.

"Safe travels, Tracey. If you need anything, you know where to find us." Tracey smiled.

"Thank you, Draco, for everything."

* * *

The following afternoon, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were playing pickup Quidditch in the backyard of the Potter-Black house when Berenice came swooping down and dropped an envelope in their midst. Inside was an invitation to a celebratory dinner that evening at Tracey's grandparents' house. Seconds later, a majestic wolf Patronus soared into the yard and spoke four words that made the Gryffindors cheer:

"The wedding is off."

* * *

 **A/N: Holy cow - over 60 of you have followed me on this last leg of the journey in just the first week! Thank you so much! Thank you to those who favorited as well, & to my 10 reviews - you guys are the best!**

 **So the contract is officially gone - YAY! Draco's Malfoy side came out in full force, hahaha. Everybody's free to do as they please, & Tracey's in a much better situation overall as well.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	3. The Tale of the Thieves

The celebration dinner was a lively affair – the weather was beautiful, and so they set up shop on the Gardners' back patio, eating, drinking, and chatting until their shadows grew long and the night air started to creep in. Tracey's grandparents were lovely people and asked many questions about their adventures at Hogwarts, but none of the teenagers minded much – the way they saw it, this dinner was just as much a way for Tracey and her grandparents to get to know one another as it was to celebrate the broken engagement, and so they answered openly and enthusiastically. The others roared with laughter when Jeff, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, gave Blaise a lecture about taking care of his granddaughter – Blaise blushed as much as his dark skin would allow and immediately dropped Tracey's hand, but Tracey merely rolled her eyes and pulled her boyfriend close for a thorough kiss, which made their friends laugh even harder, though Harry did manage to calm his guffaws long enough to throw in a good wolf-whistle or two. The older couple also told them stories about Tracey's mother, and nobody could miss the hungry expression on Tracey's face as she eagerly processed every word.

When it finally grew too cold to linger outside any longer, they retired to the sitting room for dessert. There was a family portrait hung over the fireplace, which immediately solved the mystery of Tracey's looks – aside from a few small differences, she was a carbon copy of Marianne, and the Slytherin girl smiled softly as she gazed at her mother's smiling face for the first time since she was a small child. Afterwards, the Gardners took the teenagers on a tour of the house, which was small but cozy – Tracey had already decided it felt more like home than her father's house ever had. Tracey was staying in her mother's old room, which was decorated in soft shades of purple and still held some of her old Hogwarts memorabilia – a slightly faded Ravenclaw banner, a trophy from an inter-house gobstones tournament she'd placed in, and moving photos of what must have been her friends.

"This is wonderful, Tracey," Hermione said softly as she watched Marianne and her friends lounging by the lake. "I'm so happy for you." Tracey smiled.

"Thanks, Hermione – I'm happy too. Thank you all, for everything you've done for me."

The Gardners had invited the teenagers to stay the night, and so Ginny and Hermione joined Tracey in her new room while Draco, Harry, and Blaise took the guest room. They stayed up long into the night, laughing and talking before finally falling asleep. After a delicious breakfast the following morning, the friends bid Tracey and the Gardners goodbye, thanking the older couple for their hospitality and promising to stay in touch. They dropped Ginny off at the Burrow and returned to Surrey, where Draco remembered an earlier unresolved conversation.

"We still need to talk to Padfoot," he said as they unlocked the front door of the Potter-Black house and went inside. "About the note we found in the locket."

"You're right," Harry agreed, opening the fridge and grabbing a butterbeer for each of them. "You have the note here, yeah?"

"Just upstairs in my bag," Draco replied. "Haven't really unpacked all that much since we've been home." He handed his drink to Hermione and hurried upstairs, returning a few minutes later with the little wooden chest tucked under his arm.

"Where is Padfoot, anyway?" Harry wondered as the trio made themselves comfortable in the sitting room. "I thought he was supposed to be home – we didn't miss him at the Burrow, did we?"

"No, I don't think so," Hermione said. "Mrs. Weasley would've said something if he'd been there."

"I guess there's only one way to find out." Draco drew his wand. _"Expecto Patronum!"_ The glowing wolf sat patiently as it waited for instructions, then snuffled once and disappeared right through the sitting room floor. Moments later, they heard what sounded suspiciously like cursing, followed by muffled laughter.

"That answers that question," Harry said with an amused snort. He led the way to the basement door and the three trekked downstairs, where they found Sirius sprawled in a heap on the floor and Lupin standing over him, his face drawn into a very Draco-like smirk.

"Ah, hello, you three," Lupin said conversationally. "We were just getting a little practice in before you came home." The basement at the Potter-Black house was reinforced, both magically and with thick padding, which made it an ideal dueling space – as no other safe house had such a thing, it wasn't uncommon to find Order members there practicing their skills when they weren't in a meeting or otherwise on duty.

"You couldn't have waited _two seconds longer_ to cast your Patronus?" Sirius groaned. "I was about to Disarm him!" Lupin snorted.

"I'll let you think that," he quipped. Sirius harrumphed while the trio laughed.

 _"Au contraire,_ I think my timing was impeccable," Draco replied haughtily. Sirius made as if to hex Draco for his cheek but only belatedly realized Lupin still had his wand – the action made him look rather foolish, which only made Harry and Hermione laugh harder.

"Nice try, Padfoot," Lupin said with an amused smile. "If you promise not to jinx Draco, I'll give this back – I have to be going anyway."

"What's on the agenda for today – more strategy?" Harry asked.

"Wedding planning, actually," Lupin replied happily. "We've settled on the fifteenth of August, so we haven't got much time. I think we're discussing the menu today – we'd better get to taste something, I'm starved." Even Sirius laughed at that, and seeing his friend in good spirits once more was enough for Lupin to return the other's wand.

"I expect I'll be seeing you soon," Lupin said. "Order meeting this Friday night – if Molly's cooking again, it'll be a full house." The trio and Sirius said their goodbyes, and Lupin left for the nearest Apparition point.

"So, aside from laughing at my dueling misfortunes, what are you three up to today?" Sirius asked as he picked himself up from the floor and brushed himself off.

"We were hoping to talk to you, actually," Harry said. "We found something important, but we're not quite sure what to do with it."

"Oh?" Sirius looked intrigued.

"It's upstairs in the sitting room," Draco added. "It'll be easier to explain if you can see what we're talking about." The quartet wasted no time returning to the main floor, and as soon as they were seated, Harry began to speak.

"Before Dumbledore died, he was searching for something – several somethings, actually. Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"

"I don't think I'm familiar with the term, no," Sirius said. "What are they?"

"Dark objects – very Dark. A Horcrux is something that houses a piece of a person's soul – so long as that soul piece remains intact, the person in question cannot die," Harry explained. "They're Dark because it's against the laws of nature to split your soul, and doing so requires you to commit murder."

"Voldemort has a Horcrux," Sirius said at once. Peg him as a prankster all you wanted, but Sirius Black was a smart man when he actually cared to apply himself.

"Horcruxes," Harry corrected. "We think he made six, which would give him seven soul fragments in total, including the one still in his own body – seven, of course, is the most magical number, and we all know Voldemort doesn't do things by halves."

"No, he certainly doesn't," Sirius replied with a slight frown. "And I could see how that would be a problem. If Dumbledore was the one searching for these Horcruxes, then how do you three know about them?"

"Dumbledore met with us many times over the course of the school year," Hermione said. "He was showing us memories he'd collected from Riddle's childhood – he said we might have a better chance of understanding, and ultimately defeating Riddle if we knew more about his background. He mentioned Horcruxes in one of those memories, from when he was just sixteen."

"Sixteen?" Sirius repeated, sounding shocked. "Merlin, I always knew he was mental, but still…that he was premeditating murder at such a young age is…"

"Disturbing?" Draco offered.

"Not quite a strong enough word, but it'll do," Sirius said. "So Voldemort mentioned the idea of Horcruxes while he was still in school."

"Yes – he wanted to know what would potentially happen if a person were to create more than one Horcrux," Harry said. "He also mentioned the number seven idea in that same conversation, which led us to the conclusion of six Horcruxes."

"We also know what most of them are," Draco added. "Two have already been destroyed – the diary that was controlling Ron Weasley in our second year was a Horcrux, as was an heirloom ring that Dumbledore took care of over the Easter holidays. Some of the other memories Dumbledore showed us were of people who'd known Riddle after he left school, and we know from those that he gained possession of two artifacts belonging to Hogwarts founders – a cup belonging to Hufflepuff, and a locket of Slytherin's."

"That was all Dumbledore was able to tell us," Harry continued. "If our theory is right, then there are still two unidentified Horcruxes out there, plus of course we don't know where the cup is."

"What about the locket?" Sirius asked. "Are you saying you _do_ know where to find the locket?" The trio exchanged looks.

"Not exactly." Draco picked up the wooden box and set it on his lap, then he, Harry, and Hermione raised their wands and chanted, _"Alohomora!"_ Just as it had done on the train, the lock clicked open, and Draco removed the fake locket from within its nesting place.

"This was what Dumbledore and I retrieved from Malfoy Manor the night of the battle," he said. Sirius had, of course, heard about the mission, but like the rest of the senior Order members, he was ignorant as to the mission's true importance. "We thought we had the real thing, but it wasn't until Harry, Hermione, Ginny and I figured out how to open the box that we realized we didn't." He pried open the locket and extracted the note, handing it to Sirius. Sirius read the message quickly, the teenagers becoming quickly interested when he nodded in apparent understanding.

"Do you have any idea who the first thief was?" Harry asked. "I know that's a right insensitive question, but Narcissa did mention it was a Black…"

"I have more than just an idea," Sirius admitted. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, the original thief was my brother."

"Your _brother?"_ Harry repeated. "But…you…you're not…" Sirius was somehow able to decipher his godson's stammering and let out a bark-like laugh.

"A Death Eater? No, I'm not," he said, rolling up his sleeve to show his bare left forearm as proof. "But don't forget, Harry – I was the first Black Sorted into Gryffindor in a _very_ long time, if not the first ever, and I had centuries of pureblood Slytherin ancestors. My parents didn't necessarily agree with Voldemort's methods, but they most definitely agreed with his ideas, and they were proud of my brother for joining up."

"Your brother was a Death Eater?" Draco asked. Sirius nodded.

"Yup – joined as soon as he could, right out of school. Idiot was too young to realize just what he was getting himself into, of course, but as I wasn't speaking to anyone in the family by that point, I only heard about it from Order reports and the papers. He went missing without a trace not long after that, and I haven't seen him since."

"Is there any chance he's still alive?" Hermione asked.

"Not a one," Sirius replied. "That family tapestry we have upstairs? It's self-updating – it adds in birth and death dates on its own, and it doesn't lie. My brother's been dead since before you were born."

"What does all this have to do with the locket?" Harry asked.

"Again, most of what I know I learned through the Order, and a lot of it is speculation, but it seems as though Regulus – that was my brother's name – began having second thoughts about joining up not long after he'd done so. I don't know if that's actually the case, but I have my suspicions that it's at least partially true, because I've seen that locket before."

"Really?" The trio all looked up, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"You've all seen it too, although I think you were a bit preoccupied with other things at the time," Sirius replied. "Over the summer before your fifth year, you spent quite a bit of time exploring Grimmauld Place, do you remember? There was a cabinet in the room with the family tapestry."

"A glass display cabinet," Hermione said at once, "and there was a locket in it, wasn't there? We couldn't figure out how to open it, so we just left it there – and we never gave it a second thought because Harry got Wartcap powder all over himself not too long after that!"

"Thanks for that reminder, Hermione," Harry said sarcastically. The powder had coated his hands like a thick, crusty glove, and only Lupin's knowledgeable spell work had been able to remove it. "But that explains why I thought I'd seen this locket before when Draco opened the box – I _had_ seen it before, but I'd seen the real one, hadn't I?"

"But how did it get from Malfoy Manor to Grimmauld Place?" Draco asked. "If Voldemort moved the locket to Malfoy Manor, it's probably safe to say he did so because its original hiding place was no longer acceptable – did he know that Regulus had found it? That would explain Regulus' disappearance – Voldemort would've deemed anyone who knew about or actively sought his Horcruxes to be a threat. But if Regulus was dead by that point, how did the locket get to its present location?"

"I don't know, Draco," Sirius said. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, "There is someone who might know – I'm not even sure he's still alive, and he definitely won't be thrilled with the idea of talking to me, but it's worth a shot."

"Who?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Kreacher," Sirius said. Instantly, there was a _pop_ , and the oldest house-elf any of them had ever seen materialized into existence. His skin was so wrinkly that they could barely make out any of his features, and he had tufts of white hair sticking out of his floppy ears. When the house-elf saw Sirius, he scowled.

"Master called for Kreacher?" he asked, his deep, croaky voice reminding them of a bullfrog.

"Where the hell have you been all these years, Kreacher?" Sirius asked. "I didn't even know you were still alive."

"Master acts like he cares," Kreacher scoffed to himself. "But if Master must know, Kreacher has been in Grimmauld Place – Master has just never called."

"Right," Sirius muttered. "Listen, Kreacher, I need your help. These here are Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Draco Black." Kreacher's eyes blinked and he looked up at Draco with interest.

"Mistress Cissy's boy," he said at once. Draco was startled, but he hid it well and nodded.

"Yes, I am Narcissa's son," he said. "You knew my mother?"

"Quite well," Kreacher replied. "Narcissa was good friends with Master Regulus, and Kreacher often attended them when Narcissa came to tea."

"What about after Regulus died?" Sirius pressed. "Did you ever interact with her then?" Kreacher glared at him.

"Ungrateful Master dares to mention poor Master Regulus' death so callously!" he said almost sorrowfully. "If only ungrateful Master knew the truth, perhaps he wouldn't be so quick to judge…"

"Then why don't you _tell_ us the truth?" Sirius asked exasperatedly. Hermione, who was getting worried by the nasty tone the conversation was taking, interrupted.

"Kreacher," she said, "we were wondering if you could tell us anything about this." She held up the fake locket so Kreacher could see. The little elf's eyes widened at the sight, and they could see the unshed tears he struggled to hold back.

"Where did you get that locket?" he whispered.

"Please, Kreacher," Hermione said softly. "We're not trying to hurt or upset you, but if you know something about the locket, especially if it pertains to Regulus, we need to know – it could help us bring down Voldemort." The elf flinched violently at her use of the name.

"Kreacher does know about the locket," he said. "Kreacher knows all about it, because Kreacher will never forget the night Master Regulus died." He paused and sniffed, wiping his large nose on the old pillowcase he wore.

"At first, Master Regulus was so proud to join the Death Eaters – so proud. But not long after that, he began to have doubts – his master was doing horrible things to people, and Master Regulus did not agree with his violent ways. So he sought a way to bring his master down, and he soon found it. There was a cave by the sea, and in this cave was a lake. In the middle of the lake was a small island, and here is where the locket rested. Master Regulus' master asked to borrow a house-elf one evening, and Master Regulus volunteered Kreacher for the job, not knowing that his master was taking this house-elf to test the protective enchantments around the locket. Master Regulus' master expected Kreacher to die, and Kreacher almost did – the potion housing the locket burned terribly and made Kreacher see horrible things. All Kreacher wanted was water, but the lake was filled with the living dead."

"Inferi," Harry breathed. They'd read about Inferi, reanimated corpses, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and they knew Voldemort had used them before.

"Yes," Kreacher croaked. "Kreacher was dragged beneath the surface of the water to drown, but Master Regulus had called Kreacher home, and Kreacher could not disobey a direct order."

"House-elf magic is different from human magic," Sirius explained.

"We know," Hermione replied. "That's why they can do things like Apparate inside Hogwarts." Kreacher nodded.

"Yes. Kreacher went home to Master Regulus, who demanded to know what Kreacher had seen. Kreacher told him, and Master Regulus immediately created a plan to steal the locket. Kreacher and Master Regulus got to the basin, and then everything went horribly wrong."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, careful to keep her tone as gentle as possible. Kreacher was obviously getting distressed, and from the sound of it, his story was only about to get worse.

"We were caught," he said quietly. "Master Regulus was drinking the potion – it hurt Kreacher so to see his master in pain, but Master Regulus insisted that he must be the one to drink – and then Master Regulus' master came. Master Regulus told Kreacher to hide, and once more, Kreacher could not disobey. Kreacher hid with house-elf magic and watched as Master Regulus' master confronted and killed him before leaving with the locket and the body. It took Kreacher and Mistress Cissy almost two years to find him, but Master Regulus' grave is no longer empty." Kreacher had difficulty with the last few sentences, as he'd begun to cry.

"I'm sorry, Kreacher," Hermione said softly. "Please, take your time." Kreacher hiccupped and wiped his nose again.

"Mistress Cissy ordered Kreacher to tell her what had happened – Mistress Cissy is a Black, and so Kreacher had to tell," he said once he could speak again. "Mistress Cissy was angry and upset, but she hid it well. She secretly told Kreacher that she too had doubts when it came to the evil master, and that she would be glad to help finish Master Regulus' work. She already knew where the locket was – how she found it, Kreacher does not know – and so she stole it and gave it to Kreacher for safekeeping. Mistress Cissy told Kreacher to put it somewhere the evil master would never think to look, and so Kreacher took the locket home – Grimmauld Place was the Order headquarters by then, so of course the evil master would not be able to go there. Kreacher put the locket in the cabinet with Mistress Walburga's things, and no one ever noticed."

"Kreacher, for as much as I don't like you, I must say you've done a damn good job," Sirius said with a low whistle. "Hiding a Dark object in plain sight like that…nobody ever even realized the thing hadn't always been there." Kreacher nodded stoically.

"Is it still there?" Harry asked. "The locket – is it still in the cabinet?" Kreacher shrugged.

"Kreacher has not spent much time in the main house since the Order moved in," he said. "Kreacher does not know."

"It's entirely possible it's still there," Draco said. "That little exploration of ours was only two years ago – even if you've been doing more cleaning without us, what are the chances that you went back to that cabinet when we'd already been through it?"

"Kreacher, I want you to-"

"Wait!" Hermione cried. "I don't think we should send him to get the locket."

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "If it's there, shouldn't we go get it and lock it up in the safe until we can figure out how to destroy it?"

"We should…but we don't know what sort of spells are on it," Hermione countered. "I vaguely recall that some of us touched it briefly when we tried opening it, but what if there's something more sinister that activates upon long-term contact, or something like that? I don't think anybody should touch it directly. Besides, is it safe to send Kreacher to Grimmauld Place? Has the Fidelius Charm been restored?"

"Smart questions as always, Maya," Harry said fondly. "I think she's right – we shouldn't attempt to retrieve the locket until we know it's safe, especially since the house is still out in the open. What if someone's watching it? As soon as the Fidelius Charm is back up, we can go over there and get the locket." He paused and thought for a moment. "Although it probably couldn't hurt to send Kreacher over to see if the locket's still there, could it? Not to bring it back, just to look…" Hermione looked doubtful, but she eventually nodded.

"I don't think so," she said. "Kreacher, do you think you could do that for us?"

"Kreacher, go see if the locket's still there," Sirius said. "Report back here as soon as you've done so." Kreacher nodded slowly and vanished.

"You could try being a little nicer to him, you know," Hermione said with a frown. "He just gave us a whole host of useful information, including the truth about your brother." Sirius sighed.

"You're right, as usual," he said. "I'll try, but it's not going to be easy – Kreacher worshipped the ground my parents walked on and hated me for opposing them. That loathing was very much mutual." Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by Kreacher's reappearance.

"The locket is safe in the cabinet."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Sirius said. The elf looked mildly surprised by Sirius' response, but he nodded.

"Is there anything else Master requires?" he asked.

"No – you've given us a lot to think about today," Sirius replied. "If we need anything else, I'll call you again – just stay out of trouble, alright?" Kreacher nodded again and disappeared.

"The locket is safe," Hermione breathed. On either side of her, Harry and Draco nodded in relief. They still had a long way to go, but it was definitely a good start.

* * *

 **A/N: You guys spoil me - 22 reviews on the first 2 chapters? I feel so loved! Thank you :)**

 **Now we know the story behind the locket - but how will retrieving & destroying it play out? & what of the other Horcruxes? Stay tuned...**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Thanks for being the best readers ever, & I hope you enjoy! :)**


	4. Wills, Weddings, and Wild Animals

For the next few weeks, all thoughts of Horcruxes and Death Eaters were put on hold as plans for the Tonks-Lupin wedding took shape. It was to be a small affair, but as the Wizarding world was getting more dangerous by the day, lengthy precautions were still necessary to ensure the safety of everyone involved.

"I thought you'd initially said you were getting married in mid-July?" Hermione asked one afternoon as she and Ginny helped Tonks with the preparations. The celebration was to be held at the Burrow, as it was one of the safest places amongst the Order members' residences, and the three girls were hard at work sprucing up the backyard.

"That was the plan," Tonks agreed, "but we had to push it back after that attack on the Brockdale Bridge – there was just too much that needed to be done there in terms of clean-up and security, and Kingsley and McGonagall both insisted on quadrupling the protections around all the Order safe houses afterwards. Dealing with all of that was far more important than planning a wedding, so Remus and I decided that moving the date to August would be better for everyone." Hermione nodded in agreement and paused to wipe a bit of sweat off her brow. The Brockdale Bridge incident had been horrific – the bridge had snapped cleanly in half, sending over a dozen cars plunging into the river below and killing over fifty people. It wasn't the only incident involving Muggles, either – an unexplained tornado had destroyed an entire town not two weeks prior, and a rogue giant had done some serious damage not long before that – and as a result, the Ministry found itself working overtime to rectify the situation. Wedding planning was definitely not a priority when the headlines all screamed of death.

"Is there anything else that still needs to be done?" Ginny asked, looking up from the hedge she was trimming. She studied the bush with a critical eye, snipped off another branch, and nodded in apparent satisfaction.

"Don't think so," Tonks replied. "Food is set, Kingsley's officiating, invitations are out and RSVPs are in, wedding clothes are ready…"

"And we actually convinced you to wear a dress," Ginny added with an amused snort. It was a well-known fact that Tonks was more than a bit of a tomboy – when the three had gone on their trip to America the year before, Hermione and Ginny hadn't been able to convince Tonks to pack even one sundress, so the fact that she'd chosen a dress for her wedding was a big deal. Granted, it was short and simple, nowhere near a fairytale princess wedding gown, but still…it was a dress.

"Oh, shut it," Tonks retorted, but she grinned anyway. "I have to look at least halfway decent at my own wedding, don't I?" Hermione and Ginny laughed, and the girls set aside their gardening tools and washed up before joining the boys for what was fast becoming a daily tradition of pick-up Quidditch in the orchard.

* * *

Two days before the wedding, Mr. Weasley returned from work and called Harry, Draco, and Hermione into the sitting room.

"What happened, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked as the three teenagers took seats on the sofa.

"They released the contents of Dumbledore's will," Mr. Weasley replied.

"But…but Dumbledore died over a month ago!" Harry said, sounding confused. Beside him, Hermione's expression darkened.

"They thought he'd hidden something, didn't they?" she asked suspiciously.

"Thought who'd hidden what?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore! The Ministry obviously thought he'd hidden something in his will, so they kept it under investigation – but they usually can't do that unless they suspect Dark magic involvement…their month is up though, and so they've had no choice but to release the contents. Am I right, Mr. Weasley?"

"Unfortunately so, Hermione," Mr. Weasley replied, removing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow; the evening was unseasonably warm. "They have thirty-one days in which to examine the contents of the will, and if they can't find anything suspect in that time, they must release them. Anyway, Dumbledore left each of you something in his will."

"He did?" Harry asked in shock. "What on earth did he leave us? And how did you manage to get it?"

"Only an Order member would be able to get the things to you, as you're staying in safe houses right now," Mr. Weasley explained. "The Minister knows of my alliance, even if I don't openly speak of it, and so he passed along your bequests to me. As for what Dumbledore left you, I can't really explain the gifts, but I do have most of them with me." He extracted a roll of parchment and a small pouch from within his robes.

"This is a copy of the portion of the will that pertains to you three," he explained as he unrolled the parchment. He cleared his throat and read, _"'To Draco Lucius Black, I leave the lockbox from my office at Hogwarts, in the hope that he will find the contents both useful and engaging.'_ Scrimgeour didn't have a box to give me, but he did have this." Mr. Weasley rummaged in the pouch for a moment before extracting a small golden key, the handle twisted into the shape of wings.

"I hope you know what box he's referring to, because I haven't a clue," Mr. Weasley said as he handed over the key. Draco stared at it for a long moment, then nodded.

"I think I do, Mr. Weasley," he said. Unless he was very much mistaken, the box Dumbledore referred to was the box currently housing the founders' rings – he hadn't noticed a keyhole of any sort when he'd last seen it, but the box did have a phoenix carved into the lid, so his guess made sense.

"Right, then. Next… _'To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of_ The Tales of Beedle the Bard, _in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'"_ Mr. Weasley reached into the pouch a second time and pulled out a small leather-bound book, its title stamped in runes across the front. Harry couldn't read the runes, but he recognized the title – it was a book of children's stories, many of which his mother had read to him when he was small.

"And finally… _'To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'"_ A final grab into the pouch, and the aforementioned Snitch was in Harry's hand.

"Such an odd assortment of gifts," Hermione murmured as she ran a finger over the embossed title runes of her new book.

"And such odd reasons," Draco added. "We need the contents of that box, yes, but what on earth are we supposed to do with a children's book and an old Snitch?"

"There was one more thing," Mr. Weasley said hesitantly. The teenagers all looked up expectantly.

"Yes?" Harry pressed, more than a little curious.

"Dumbledore left you the sword of Gryffindor," Mr. Weasley said. Hermione gasped.

"The sword of Gryffindor?" she exclaimed. "But…why? And…where is it?" She eyed the little pouch Mr. Weasley had, but it was clearly empty. Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"Unfortunately, the Ministry decided that the sword wasn't Dumbledore's to give away – something about it being an important historical artifact and not belonging to any one Gryffindor in particular," he explained. "I assume Dumbledore had a reason for including it in his will, however – do you have any idea what that might be?" The trio exchanged looks and shrugged.

"No, we don't," Harry admitted. "Trust me, Mr. Weasley, I think we have just as many questions as you do." He held up his Snitch as if confirming his confusion.

"Well, dinner will be ready soon, I'm guessing," Mr. Weasley said then, rising from his favorite armchair. "I'll leave you three to chat, if you like – I'm sure Molly will call you down when it's time."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said. Harry and Draco echoed the sentiment, and Mr. Weasley nodded once before leaving them alone.

"Harry, is it possible Dumbledore hid something in that Snitch?" Hermione asked once Mr. Weasley had gone.

"What do you mean?" Harry replied.

"Snitches have flesh memories, remember? It would be the perfect hiding place, because it would only open for you," Hermione explained. Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"Of course!" he said. A Snitch was never touched by bare hands until a Seeker caught it, and it carried enchantments that could be activated in case of a disputed capture. This Snitch would remember his touch.

"Except I didn't exactly catch this Snitch with my hands, did I?" Harry reminded them. "That's why nothing happened when Mr. Weasley gave it to me." Without a second thought, he picked up the Snitch and kissed it.

"Look!" Hermione shouted. "There's writing on it!" The three friends scrambled to see the message now shining on the underside of the Snitch, and they just had time to read it before it disappeared again.

"'I open at the close'?" Harry muttered. "What in Merlin's name is that supposed to mean?"

"Knowing Dumbledore, it could be anything," Draco said. Their list of unknowns just kept growing…

* * *

The morning of the wedding found the Burrow in a state of chaos as those who weren't already staying in the Weasley home Flooed or Apparated in while those who were tripped over one another on the stairs in their haste to finish all of the little details that had been neglected until the last minute. The girls sequestered themselves in Ginny's bedroom, which had been turned into a makeshift salon, and Mrs. Weasley, who had generously offered to prepare the wedding lunch, threatened anyone who came near the kitchen with some truly creative hexes.

"Where the bloody hell is Lupin?" Ron asked as he, Harry, and Draco grappled with the decorations under the marquee where the couple would soon wed. Try as they might, they couldn't get the garlands to hang straight, and the girls weren't available to help.

"Sirius insisted on giving him a stag night," Harry replied, finally giving up on manually securing the garlands and completing the task with a sharp flick of his wand.

"Mrs. Weasley will have your head if those explode during the ceremony or something," Draco said, eyeing Harry's wand and the garlands in turn. Mrs. Weasley had told them in no uncertain terms that the task was to be done without magic – but then again, she'd probably just been afraid that they might accidentally ruin the decorations with a stray spell before the wedding even started.

"Oh, come off it," Ron scoffed. "They're just flowers. You heard Tonks – if she had her way, she'd have eloped in jeans and trainers; she's only doing the ceremony for her mum. And what's this about a stag night?"

Before Harry could answer his friend, however, a loud popping noise came from outside the garden, and the three boys ran to greet the newcomers. Sirius and Lupin were both wearing sunglasses and looked ready to keel over.

"Merlin, Padfoot, what the hell did you two do last night?" Harry asked, looking amused.

"I think the better question is what _didn't_ we do last night," Lupin replied with a groan. He sank to the ground and buried his head in his knees.

"Are you really that out of it?" Draco said with a snort. "The sun hasn't even come out yet – it was still raining until about an hour ago…"

"Oh, shut up with the technicalities," Lupin moaned. Sirius laughed, which quickly turned into a groan as he reached up to massage his own aching head.

"Couldn't let Moony get away without a proper stag night," he managed. "Not after the one we threw for James. Merlin, what a night…"

"What happened?" Harry asked, eager as always to hear stories of his parents.

"I don't really remember, to be honest," Sirius admitted.

"Well, I do," Lupin interjected. "Sirius, the _wonderful_ best man that he is, drags us all to this bar in…where was it?"

"Dunno," Sirius said. "I just liked the flamingos." The three teenagers raised their eyebrows in question, and though Lupin couldn't see the gesture from his current vantage point, he could sense their confusion.

"The place had a bit of a tropical theme," he explained. "Why the owners lived in England when they were clearly in love with Florida is beyond me…but that's beside the point. Anyway, Sirius orders your dad some violently colored cocktail called a Screaming Banshee or something like that, and James takes a liking to it and ends up knocking back about twelve of them before deciding he's starving and ordering nearly everything off the menu – James could eat like you, Ron, but I'd never seen him put away so much food. Everything after that was a bit fuzzy - we were out until three in the morning doing only Merlin knows what – but we all woke up the next morning in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place."

"Never quite figured out how we got there, did we?" Sirius mused.

"And Sirius refused to give James a hangover cure until roughly ten minutes before he walked out to the altar – some rubbish about 'getting the full experience'," Lupin said, raising his hands so he could form the air quotes.

"The entire time he was getting dressed, he kept repeating, 'She's gonna kill me, Lils is gonna kill me'," Sirius added, sounding thoroughly amused.

"You're cruel, Padfoot," Harry said.

"Only doing my job," Sirius joked. "These two idiots did both decide to choose me as their best man, after all. You should've heard the toast I gave afterwards…"

"Oh, Merlin help us," Lupin muttered. "Forget Tonks murdering me; Molly Weasley is going to murder _you_ before the ceremony even starts." Harry, Ron, and Draco all sniggered as Sirius paled – Mrs. Weasley was lovely, of course, but her temper was truly legendary. Lupin looked up and grinned at his friend.

"About that hangover tonic," he said. Without another word, Sirius reached into his pocket and tossed Lupin a vial of an electric blue potion. Lupin popped the cork, swallowed the entire potion in one go, and stood up, already looking much better.

"Best find yourself a dose of this, Padfoot my friend," he said, sounding far more chipper than before. "I'm getting married in an hour and we've got work to do." He then grabbed Sirius by the elbow and hauled him into the house, much to the boys' amusement.

By some miracle, everyone was dressed and in his or her proper place by the time the wedding music began to play. Harry, Hermione, Draco, and the Weasley children sat in the front row and watched as Tonks strolled confidently down the aisle on her father's arm to where a beaming Remus Lupin stood waiting for her. Ginny and Hermione had done a wonderful job getting Tonks ready – she wore a knee-length dress with short sleeves and a simple lace overlay, and her bubblegum-pink hair was styled smooth and held back with a sparkly clip. She carried a bouquet of fresh wildflowers and wore a pair of comfortable but pretty sandals on her feet. She'd drawn the line at makeup, but she didn't need it – her wide smile was more than enough.

The ceremony itself was short, but sweet – the couple wrote original vows that made everyone tear up, and their magic sparked playfully as it intertwined. Fred and George had enchanted the bunch of balloons fixed over the couple's heads to burst and shower the newlyweds with confetti as they shared their first married kiss, and everyone stood and clapped as the couple raced back up the aisle towards the Burrow, hand in hand.

After the ceremony, the guests gathered around the magically enlarged table in the Weasleys' back garden to enjoy the wedding feast prepared by Molly Weasley. The table groaned under the weight of the many dishes, and the air was filled with laughter as the friends ate and drank their way through the delicious offerings. A friend of Tonks' who ran a bakery in Diagon Alley had supplied them with a truly spectacular wedding cake, and though they were all full to bursting from the meal, Tonks insisted that they save room for the dessert, a decision which none regretted.

"So where are you going for your honeymoon?" Ginny asked.

"We aren't, actually – not yet, anyway," Lupin said. "There's too much going on right now – it'd be selfish of us to leave the Order for so long just to go on holiday. We're spending tomorrow with my father, but we'll save the big trip for after the war." Lupin's father hadn't been well enough to make the trip to the Burrow, and so he and his new wife were visiting the following day to make up for his absence.

"I don't need a honeymoon," Tonks said. "I've had my wedding, and that's good enough for me." Her hair was rapidly changing colors, and she blushed fiercely as she shared a knowing look with her husband.

"The wolf and the chameleon – is this a wedding, or a zoo?" Harry joked. Lupin balled up his napkin and threw it across the table at the cheeky teenager, but Tonks looked up, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"We've postponed the honeymoon, but nothing says we can't take a day trip," she said. "Let's go."

"Thanks for the idea, Harry," Tonks said just over an hour later. She'd refused to elaborate on her thought until just before they left, and now they found themselves standing at the entrance to the London Zoo.

"You have a strange sense of humor, Tonks," Harry muttered, but he laughed anyway and joined his friends in the line to purchase tickets, the colorful advertisements for the zoo's many attractions keeping them occupied as they waited.

"Where to?" Harry asked once they were all through the main gates.

"Oh, let's just see what there is to see," Tonks said with a grin. She was still wearing her wedding dress, though she'd ditched her sandals for her favorite pair of red trainers. "Much better for walking," she'd said.

They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the many exhibits the zoo had to offer, seeing everything from otters and ferrets to kangaroos and gorillas. The aquarium housed jeweled fish in every color of the rainbow along with seahorses, eels, and stingrays, and the penguins' funny antics had everyone laughing. Ginny was particularly entranced by the butterflies, and Ron absolutely refused to go in the bug exhibit when he read how many spiders it contained. They marveled at the size of the Galapagos tortoises, and after a quick ice cream break, decided to visit the reptile house.

The reptile house was cool compared to the August heat outside, and the group relished the temperature change as they viewed the many animals living there. Iguanas, frogs, and lizards of all kinds were on display, and Ron gawked at the size of the crocodile staring him down from the nearest enclosure.

"It's huge!" he cried. "Look at those teeth, Merlin!"

"It's not as big as the tigers we saw, Ron," Hermione reminded him.

"Yeah, but the tigers were mostly asleep," Ron said. "That thing looks like it could eat me, right here, right now."

"Hey, look!" Draco called, pointing to one of the signs. "It's your cousin, Tonks!" The exhibit held a series of chameleons.

"I didn't know you were in the habit of insulting yourself, Drake," Tonks joked with a wink. Draco rolled his eyes and reached over to punch Tonks' arm as Hermione snickered beside him.

"You did walk right into that one, Dragon," she said, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh, hush, Lotte," he grumbled, though he shot her a grin as he moved on to look at the salamanders.

"Look at this one," Harry said from the snake pens. "It's so bright!" The boa constrictor behind the glass was indeed a bright shade of green, with little white zigzags on its back.

"The markings look like little lightning bolts," Ginny remarked, coming up to stand beside him.

"They kind of do, yeah," Harry agreed. "Where's this one from?" Ginny stepped sideways to read the sign on the exhibit.

"Brazil," she said, "but this one was bred in captivity."

"Ah, so it's never been to Brazil – that's a bit sad."

"Harry, did you really just say a snake never having been to Brazil is sad?"

"Well, that's where it's from, isn't it?" Ginny merely snorted and shook her head.

"You're so weird, Harry James Potter," she said as she reached out to take his hand. "But I love you anyway." Harry chuckled.

"Love you too, Gin."

After another hour or so of exploring the animal exhibits, it was almost closing time, and so the group decided to return to the Burrow to help prepare for dinner. After finding a quiet side street, they Disapparated in pairs, reappearing just outside the Burrow's wards. Their carefree expressions vanished the instant they beheld the intense discussion taking place at the table, which was still set up outside from the earlier wedding feast.

"What happened?" Lupin demanded, immediately going into Order mode. "And why didn't you contact us?"

"It's your wedding day, Remus," Mrs. Weasley said. "We had to give you at least that, didn't we? Besides, it wouldn't do for a Patronus to appear in the middle of Muggle London, now would it?"

"Thank you, Molly," Lupin said. "We did indeed have an enjoyable afternoon – but something happened, didn't it? While we were gone?"

"The news came in not too long after you left," Kingsley said, his deep voice lacking its usual calming undertones. "Scrimgeour is dead, and the Ministry has fallen."

* * *

 **A/N: I apologize profusely for the delay in getting this chapter out - it's been a very rough couple of weeks at work, & I haven't had the motivation to do most of what I actually needed to get done, never mind write. Not a great excuse, I know, but it is what it is.**

 **I couldn't resist the thing with the boa constrictor - I thought of it when Harry's line about "is this a wedding or a zoo" came to mind, & I just had to put it in. Interestingly enough, the London Zoo is indeed home to a boa of that description, native to South America - it's called the emerald tree boa, & it actually does have lightning-bolt shaped markings. Could it be any more Harry Potter perfect?**

 **Thank you for all the follows & faves since I last posted, & for the lovely reviews! You guys really are wonderful.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	5. Dark Days

Everyone started talking at once upon Kingsley's pronouncement, and it took a gunshot-like blast from Mrs. Weasley's wand to quiet them all again.

"We have much to do and very little time in which to do it," Kingsley said. "Please let me explain before we start with questions." Though they were bursting with curiosity, the group nodded, and Tonks motioned for her fellow Auror to continue speaking.

"The Ministry has fallen," Kingsley repeated. "We don't know much in the way of details, but we do know that Scrimgeour has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, whom we suspect is under the Imperius Curse. There were also a number of deaths, including three members of the Wizengamot and Amelia Bones."

"Oh, poor Susan," Hermione murmured, the other teenagers expressing similar sentiments. Susan Bones was both a classmate and a good friend, as well as one of the founding members of Dumbledore's Army. Her immediate family had been killed by Death Eaters some years before, and now she'd lost the only relative she had left.

"Is she alright?" Harry asked, concerned for his friend.

"About as well as can be expected, the poor dear," Mrs. Weasley replied. "She's going to stay with Hannah Abbott until term starts." Harry nodded. That made sense – Hannah and Susan had been close since their very first day at Hogwarts, when they'd both been Sorted into Hufflepuff. Hannah's own mother had barely escaped with her life when a couple of rogue Death Eaters had caught her unawares earlier in the summer, so Hannah knew exactly what Susan was going through and would be able to help her friend through the difficult situation.

"Any losses for the Death Eaters?" Lupin asked.

"Nobody of consequence, unfortunately," Kingsley said with a shake of his head. "A number of the younger ones didn't make it – from what we heard, it was obvious this was their first mission and You-Know-Who hadn't intended for them to survive; he viewed them as necessary to the successful takeover, but ultimately expendable."

"You-Know-Who?" Lupin repeated, tilting his head in confusion. "Since when do you call him anything other than Vol-"

"Don't," Kingsley interrupted, the sharp snap so unlike his usual calm demeanor that they all jumped. "That's the other bit we managed to find out – there's now a taboo on his name. Saying his name is like planting a flaming beacon right over your head – it will tell him precisely where you are. Clever twist on the Tracking Spell, and given that usually only his staunchest opposition dares use that name, an equally clever move in terms of bringing us down. One of the Death Eaters was bragging about how he got Emmeline Vance that way." Emmeline was a senior Order member who'd been killed the previous week, and up until then, nobody had been able to figure out how she'd been caught.

"Are Dad and Percy alright?" Ginny asked, looking fearful.

"Your father is the one who's been sending us this information," Mrs. Weasley said, moving forward to give her youngest a reassuring squeeze. "It's dangerous, I know, but we need to know, and he promised to be careful. As for Percy" – she paused and pressed her lips together in a thin line at the thought of her third son, who hadn't spoken to his family in nearly two years – "Arthur didn't have details, but he saw Percy an hour or so ago and said he was fine." The report wasn't entirely promising – even while still at Hogwarts, Percy had demonstrated a nearly insatiable thirst for power, and he'd eagerly followed Umbridge in all of her dastardly glory when it meant a significant promotion. Now that the danger was real, it was entirely possible that Percy was in too deep to back out.

"We still have quite a lot to do," Kingsley continued, bringing them out of their thoughts about Percy. "It is entirely possible that the new regime will push through some highly unsavory legislation, and of course there is Hogwarts to consider."

"Vol- sorry, You-Know-Who hasn't taken over Hogwarts, has he?" Hermione gasped.

"Not that we know of, but we need to be prepared for the possibility," Kingsley replied grimly. "The Ministry doesn't entirely control Hogwarts, of course, but with how effectively and efficiently he took over the Ministry, it wouldn't be surprising if he went for Hogwarts next."

"It would make sense," Draco grudgingly agreed. "He'd want to train the next generation while they're young, wouldn't he?"

"Exactly," Kingsley said. "You'll all have to be on your guard this term, and every term thereafter until this is over."

"Who's in charge now that Dumbledore is…?" Ron trailed off, uncomfortable with finishing that particular painful question.

"Minerva McGonagall is the new headmistress," Kingsley said. "She was, after all, Deputy Headmistress under Dumbledore. Filius Flitwick is her new Deputy Head. Last I heard, they had yet to choose a new Head of House for Gryffindor."

"I think a new Head of House is the least of our worries," Harry said dismissively. "I'm sure we can still talk to McGonagall if we need to, plus she's in the Order, which not all of the other professors are. Is there anything else we need to know?"

"Not right now, no," Kingsley said. "Just please, be on your guard, all of you. That lesson of 'constant vigilance' that Alastor preached before he died is going to be more important than ever."

* * *

The mood amongst the Order members was decidedly tenser than before after the Ministry takeover. Members were often missing from meetings, busy with lengthy, dangerous missions, and several returned with injuries that required medical attention and significant recuperation time. Mr. Weasley was walking on eggshells at the Ministry, as it was a well-known fact that he and his family supported the Order, and as such, he was unable to give them more than sparse tidbits of information. Percy, of course, was still acting as Junior Assistant to the Minister, but as he wasn't speaking to his family at the moment and the Minister himself was little more than a puppet, this connection was hardly of any use.

A week before the Hogwarts Express was due to leave for Scotland, Harry, Hermione, Draco, Ginny, and Ron, accompanied by Sirius and Mrs. Weasley, made the trip to London to purchase their new school supplies. The shock they received upon entering Diagon Alley was almost palpable – instead of the usual throngs of chattering witches and wizards, the main street was almost entirely deserted, and the few people they spotted hurried along with their heads down, not daring to stop to talk to anyone they did not know. Several shops had suffered spell damage – there had been a number of skirmishes in Diagon Alley since the takeover – but the most troubling sight was the boarded-up windows of Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor and Ollivander's wand shop. Both owners had gone missing without a trace over the summer, and the Order had yet to figure out what the Death Eaters could possibly have wanted from them, but they doubted it was anything good.

"I hope Dan is alright," Harry said as they walked past the abandoned ice cream parlor. Dan Midgen was the older brother of their classmate Eloise, and he'd been working at Fortescue's for quite some time.

"He's fine – Eloise and her family have left the country," Hermione replied a little sadly. "I don't know where they've gone yet, but she promised to write when they were settled." Eloise was a quiet girl, but she was a loyal friend, and definitely Hermione's closest companion in their dormitory. Her family's departure from England made sense – as Eloise's mother was a Muggle, it wouldn't have been safe for her father to continue in his Ministry position – but Hermione would definitely miss the curly-haired blonde.

The only good thing about their trip to London was that it was short, as nobody really needed much besides Potions ingredients and some new robes. Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Sirius bid the Weasleys farewell before returning to Surrey, and the teenagers retreated upstairs to pack their trunks just for something to do.

"Why didn't you get the Head Girl badge, Maya?" Harry asked as he folded socks and tucked them into his cauldron. "I thought you were a shoe-in!" Hermione shrugged around an armful of textbooks.

"Professor McGonagall added a postscript to my letter that said she had a good reason for doing so," she replied, handing the books to Draco so he could put them in his trunk. "She said she'd explain once we got to Hogwarts. I won't say I'm not disappointed, but I trust her."

"Oy, you three!" Sirius called up the stairs. "I've got some news that might interest you." The trio hurried to the upper landing, looking down to where Sirius stood.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"The Fidelius is back up at Grimmauld Place and seems to be holding – we can go check on that locket now," Sirius replied. Instantly, the three teenagers rushed down the stairs.

"Eager much?" Sirius asked with a chuckle.

"That's the first positive news we've heard since Lupin and Tonks got married," Harry replied shortly. "I don't want to waste any time." Sirius shrugged.

"Fair enough." Leading the trio outside until they were beyond the wards, he cast a glance up and down the street before nodding, and they Disapparated.

"The tapestry room, yes?" Sirius asked as he pushed open the front door of his childhood home.

"Yeah," Harry said. "In the display case." Taking care to keep quiet so as not to wake Mrs. Black's portrait, they hurried up the stairs and into the drawing room. The signed banner for the 'Blasted Off the Tapestry Club' still hung proudly on the wall beside the Black family tree, and Harry was relieved to see that nothing looked disturbed. He quickly maneuvered his way through the room to the glass display cabinet.

"There it is," he said quietly, pointing to the large golden locket resting on the second shelf. It was an ornate thing, the lid decorated with glittering emeralds in the shape of the letter _S._ If he wasn't so sure it was a cursed object, Harry might have gone so far as to say it was a very handsome trinket indeed.

"Stand back," Sirius warned. "There's no telling what this thing might do – or anything else in this cabinet, for that matter." He slowly and carefully used a spell to open the cabinet, and when nothing happened, he levitated the locket from its perch onto a handkerchief he'd laid out on the closest ottoman.

"Now what?" Draco whispered.

"Dunno," Harry replied, staring at the locket. "D'you reckon we can touch it?"

"Only one way to find out," Sirius said. Without another thought, he scooped up the jewelry. There were no explosions or other outwards signs of protestation from the locket, but Sirius winced as the locket came in contact with his bare skin.

"It's cold," he said by way of explanation. "Ice cold – and I can _feel_ the Dark magic inside it. If this isn't a Horcrux, then I don't know what is." He allowed Harry, Hermione, and Draco to each hold the locket in turn, and they all agreed with his assessment – they couldn't explain exactly what it was, but they could tell that the locket contained something of great evil.

"Any idea how to get rid of it?" Sirius asked.

"Not at all," Harry replied glumly. "Dumbledore never got around to telling us that bit."

"You destroyed the diary, didn't you?" Hermione asked.

"With a basilisk fang, yeah," Harry said. "Any chance you've got a spare one of those lying around?"

"Erm…no."

"Exactly. There's got to be another way to do it, since Dumbledore somehow took care of the Gaunt ring, but I haven't the foggiest idea where to begin."

"We begin by making sure this locket stays safe," Draco said firmly. "If we can't get rid of it now, we at least have to know where it is so that when we do learn how to destroy Horcruxes, we can take care of it immediately."

"I can keep it here, if you like," Sirius suggested. "The only people coming through here will be Order members, and even then, we always have our meetings in the kitchen. If you're not sure about keeping it in here, there's a safe upstairs that only I can access."

"A master of the house thing," Draco said, understanding immediately since there was a similar safe in Malfoy Manor.

"Exactly."

"Let's keep it in the safe," Hermione said at once. "We can't risk someone stumbling across this cabinet and accidentally removing the locket."

"Works for me," Harry said with a shrug. Sirius and Draco agreed, and less than ten minutes later, the locket was safely stored away, and the quartet were back in the Potter-Black sitting room.

"Now we just have to find a way to destroy Horcruxes," Harry said with a groan.

"One thing at a time, Harry," Hermione replied quietly as she gently stroked Hedwig's feathers, the owl having left her perch to settle on the arm of the sofa. "One thing at a time."

* * *

The trio was glad when September finally arrived, if only because it meant returning to the somewhat sheltered environment of Hogwarts – though they were all of age, they were still teenagers, and they couldn't deny that the daily reports of death and destruction were both disheartening and scary. They all shared longer-than-usual hugs with the adults who accompanied them to Kings Cross, and they hung out the compartment windows until their carriage had rounded the bend and the platform was no longer in view. Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Ginny managed to grab a compartment for themselves, which was unnervingly easy due to the smaller than usual student population – it seemed that Eloise wasn't the only one who hadn't returned this year.

"What do we still have to do?" Harry asked as he flopped down on one of the benches, Ginny's fiery hair splayed across his lap.

"Well, we have to learn how to destroy Horcruxes, for one," Hermione replied, immediately beginning to tick things off on her fingers. "We need to track down Hufflepuff's cup, and we need to figure out what the other two Horcruxes are and find them as well. We need to figure out why Dumbledore left Harry the sword of Gryffindor, and where it is now, as well as the importance of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and your old Snitch. We also need to determine who wears the remaining two rings – if the promise ceremony works this time, that's Gryffindor and Slytherin covered, but we still haven't determined who wears Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"Not a difficult task list at all," Draco drawled, sarcasm evident in his voice. Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed, but she didn't protest when Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his side, twining his fingers with hers.

"Couldn't we just go back down into the Chamber of Secrets and grab a basilisk fang?" Ginny suggested. "It did work on the diary, after all, so you'd think something about it could take down any Horcrux."

"While that's a great idea in theory, we have no idea how to get into the chamber, Gin," Harry reminded her. "It was already open when we went in, remember?"

"Oh…right." Ginny frowned, and Harry gently ran his fingers over the worry lines, soothing them away before calmingly threading his hands through her hair. Ginny visibly relaxed at his touch and smiled softly.

"It might be a starting point," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We know that a basilisk fang can destroy a Horcrux, so that might help us determine what else can as well."

"I'm thinking we might want to try the _Daily Prophet,"_ Draco said. When the others looked at him questioningly, he added, "Not for anything about destroying Horcruxes, but for information about the Horcruxes themselves. Even if it doesn't do so in an acceptable fashion, that paper covers _everything_ – it's a long shot, but there might be something in there about a valuable magical artifact gone missing, or something of the sort. You never know where we might find a hint."

"How are we going to do that?" Ginny asked from her prone position, still very much enjoying her unexpected head massage. "We'd need access to the _Prophet_ offices, wouldn't we? And they've been taken over."

"Not necessarily," Draco replied. "Don't forget that Hogwarts is home to the biggest library in Wizarding Britain – libraries generally contain periodicals as well as books, and though I've never seen them, it's safe to guess that the Hogwarts library probably has its own collection. There's no guarantee that it'll be of any use, but it can't hurt to try."

"Good point," Harry acknowledged. "At this point, we need all the help we can get."

The start of term feast was not nearly as welcoming as those in years past, most notably due to the noticeable number of missing students. Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott were still unaccounted for, and each of the other house tables had empty seats as well – in addition to Eloise, Harry noted the absence of Dean Thomas, Lisa Turpin, and the Patil twins, and he was sure there were others from his year that he just hadn't noticed. Professor McGonagall's speech was short and to the point – no twinkling eyes or nonsense words from their new headmistress. She cautioned the students to be on their guard and urged them to report any suspicious activity immediately, as the staff couldn't guarantee that Hogwarts was completely safe. She announced that Professor Sinistra, who taught Astronomy, would be Gryffindor's new Head of House, and she also told them that Muggle Studies would be put on hold, as there was no instructor. This last message caused an outbreak of murmuring amongst the students, which continued as dinner appeared on the tables.

"What happened to Professor Burbage?" Hermione wondered as she selected a piece of roast chicken and some mashed potatoes.

"Nothing good, I'll bet," Harry muttered. "McGonagall probably knows and just doesn't want to scare the first-years."

They got their answer much sooner than expected, as Professor McGonagall asked Harry, Draco, and Hermione to accompany her to her office immediately following the feast.

"I'm sure it goes without saying that you three especially must be on your guard this year," the headmistress began as soon as they were all seated. "The targets on your backs are enormous compared to most, and your safety is paramount in this war."

"Is that why Hermione didn't get the Head Girl badge?" Harry asked.

"Precisely, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall replied. "I could not risk such a thing, especially if a takeover were to happen and we had to send you into hiding – explaining the Head Girl's sudden disappearance would be far too difficult and dangerous. My sincerest apologies, Miss Granger, but I could see no other way."

"Who are the Head students this year, Professor?" Draco asked.

"Anthony Goldstein, and Daphne Greengrass," she said. "Neither are likely to be overly questioned should anything happen, and as I know they are both members of Dumbledore's Army, that should be an extra layer of security for them as well."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed. "Anything we can do to help, we will."

"What happened to Professor Burbage?" Hermione asked for the second time that night. Professor McGonagall sighed.

"We don't know," she admitted. "She left Hogwarts at the start of the summer holidays as usual, but nobody has heard from her since. We fear the worst, but nothing has been – or can be – confirmed. Given the turmoil across the country over the last few months, obtaining a replacement instructor on such short notice was impossible, and so those students taking Muggle Studies will just have to make do without." The trio nodded solemnly. Hermione was the only one of the three to have taken Muggle Studies, and even then only for a short time, but the loss of a Hogwarts professor hit a little too close to home.

"I will keep you updated as often as I can," Professor McGonagall continued. "I will, of course, be busy with the Order, but my place is first and foremost here at Hogwarts – if you three ever need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said graciously. "And I understand about the Head Girl position, I really do."

"Very well. It's time you were off to bed – it's not safe to be wandering the corridors at night, even for seventh-years. I will see you in the morning for the start of your lessons."

"Thanks again, Professor," Harry said as the three teenagers rose to leave. "Goodnight." Professor McGonagall nodded and sent them on their way, and they bid each other goodnight before heading their separate ways at the nearest staircase. As Harry and Hermione climbed through the Gryffindor portrait hole and headed up to bed, they both agreed that their final year at Hogwarts was off to a very foreboding start indeed.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all again for your patience as I struggled to get this chapter to you - hopefully the next ones will come a little easier. Some very interesting things coming up, so stay tuned!**

 **Thank you, as well, for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! You guys are the best!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	6. An Unexpected Discovery

Breakfast was rather quiet the next morning, but that, thankfully, was a normal occurrence rather than one due to the somber environment outside the castle walls. Professor Sinistra did her rounds of the Gryffindor table, passing out schedules and checking marks for those applying to N.E.W.T. courses, and the students did their best to thank her politely around mouthfuls of bacon and eggs.

"Charms first thing," Harry said as he studied his new timetable. "Not a bad way to start the week – and double Potions; I reckon we've ended every first day with that class, eh Maya?"

"We had Potions on Fridays in our first year, so no, but it does seem that way, doesn't it?" Hermione replied, checking her bag to make sure she had everything she needed for the day.

"I'm starting with Transfiguration," Ginny said as she buttered a slice of toast. She took a large bite, chewed, swallowed, and washed it down with a mouthful of juice before adding, "I'm nervous."

"Don't be," Hermione reassured her. "You know Professor McGonagall's teaching style, and you're more than capable of handling the material – you did get an O on your O.W.L. exam, after all."

"Yeah, but still…McGonagall's strict, and it's an N.E.W.T. class," Ginny said, still looking uncertain.

"You'll be fine, Gin," Harry said, squeezing her hand under the table. "It's just nerves – they'll go away once you've sat your first class, I guarantee it."

"Really?" Ginny asked.

"Really. And you can tell us at lunch all about how great your first day's been."

"How do you always know what to say?" Ginny asked, giving him a fond sideways glance. Harry chuckled.

"I've been hanging around this one for ten years now," he replied, gesturing to Hermione with his free hand. "I'd hope that at least some of her wisdom's rubbed off on me by now." Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

"Whether you stole the line or not, it still made me feel a little better, so thank you," Ginny said quietly, leaning close to give Harry a soft kiss.

"Love you, Gin."

"Love you too."

"Save it for later, you two," Hermione said with an affectionate sort of exasperation. "Some of us are still trying to eat, after all." Harry snorted.

"Like I haven't walked in on you and Drake snogging all over the place…"

"Never at the kitchen table!" Hermione retorted, her cheeks a brilliant shade of pink.

"Uh huh…"

"Oh, give the poor girl a break," Ginny said with a laugh. "She does have a point – putting people off their breakfast isn't very nice." She glanced pointedly down the Gryffindor table to where Ron and Lavender had abandoned their food in favor of intimately exploring each other's tonsils.

"Hey!" Harry protested, looking thoroughly revolted at his roommate's behavior. "We weren't even close to _that…"_ Whether he intended to elaborate on that thought or not, they didn't know, as his declaration was cut off by the arrival of the morning post.

"Any news?" Ginny asked as Hermione unrolled the latest edition of the _Daily Prophet._

"No – not on the front page, anyway," Hermione replied. "The Weird Sisters are releasing a new album early next year…" She trailed off and began to flip through the paper, passing off the sports section so Harry could check the Quidditch scores.

"Kenmare's looking for a new Keeper," Harry remarked. "Given how abysmally Masterson performed for them against the Tornados, I'm not surprised…"

"Weren't the Tornados cheating?" Ginny asked as she scooted closer to read an article about the Holyhead Harpies' newest Chaser.

"Even if they were, Masterson was awful…"

"Well, hello!" Hermione said suddenly, surprise evident in her voice. Harry and Ginny looked up to see an unfamiliar brown owl sitting in front of their friend, its leg outstretched in offering. After checking the letter for unwanted jinxes, Hermione accepted the scroll and gave the owl a piece of bacon, which it took from her with a hoot of thanks before taking flight once more.

"Who's it from, Hermione?" Harry asked as she unrolled the letter.

"I don't know," she said, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar handwriting. Her frown turned to delight as she took in the signature. "It's from Eloise!"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Ginny cried. "How is she?"

"I'll read it to you," Hermione said. _"'Dear Hermione, Hello from the other side of the world! (Not quite, of course, but we're still rather far away.) I was devastated to leave England, but what with the turmoil at the Ministry and the resulting heightened danger to my mum, I recognize that it was both necessary and unavoidable. Dad wanted me to be able to finish my education, and so we've settled in the suburbs of Boston, Massachusetts, USA, and I'll be doing my seventh year at the Salem Witches' Institute.'"_

"She's at Salem!" Ginny said with a laugh. "That's too funny – I wonder if she's met any of our friends?"

"There's more," Hermione replied, returning the grin. _"'Lisa Turpin is here as well – she has family in the area, so it was a logical move for her, and I must admit having a familiar face around has made things a lot easier, even if we don't really know each other all that well outside of the D.A.. Salem's Head of School has been so welcoming – she said she's intimately acquainted with the situation back home and is more than willing to help – and while the culture here is a bit different, many aspects are the same, which is comforting. Lisa and I are rooming together in a suite with two other girls, one of whom says she knows you – her name is Maria, and she says hello. Her sister Julie wants to say that Ginny still owes her a game of Quodpot, though I told her you'll never take the Quidditch out of a Weasley.'_

 _'The rest of my family are well – Dan's taken to Boston like a fish to water and has already networked with a group of Salem alumni, and my parents are settling in as well. Dad's found work at the local branch of the American Ministry, and they're doing all they can to help with the war effort. I'm both nervous and excited to start my classes here, and I miss you all very much – please keep me updated as often as you can. Your Friend, Eloise.'"_

"Of all the people she could be living with," Ginny said, unable to contain her giggles. "What are the odds?"

"You've met these people?" Harry asked.

"They're the ones who showed us around Salem and dueled us when we stole Ravenclaw's ring," Hermione reminded him. She'd told Harry the story, of course, but it had been a while and he hadn't been there, so she wasn't surprised he'd forgotten. Harry laughed lightly at the unlikely coincidence.

"She sounds like she's doing well – I'm happy for her," he said. Ginny and Hermione heartily agreed, and the three friends headed off to their first classes in much higher spirits than before.

* * *

The first week of term passed in a surprisingly normal fashion – their professors wasted no time in piling on the homework and assigning extremely difficult in-class tasks, and the friends spent a significant chunk of time in the library or the Room of Requirement as they struggled to get back into the academic routine. Hermione wrote a reply to Eloise, detailing all of the goings-on at Hogwarts and everything she knew about the outside world, and they were thrilled to hear no further death reports as the week progressed. The only significant difference was Professor McGonagall, who seemed far more stressed than usual – but then, she was doing work for the Order and acting as headmistress while still teaching her Transfiguration classes, so her lack of energy was to be expected. Still, seeing the normally strong witch so worn down was more than a bit troubling.

On Friday evening, Harry stormed into the Room of Requirement and dropped his books onto the closest coffee table, collapsing onto the couch with a loud huff.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Draco asked, glancing up from the game of chess he was currently playing with Ginny. Hermione was on the floor beside them, pages of notes about the founders spread all around her as she hunted for further leads about the Horcruxes.

"They've cancelled Quidditch for the year," Harry muttered.

 _"What?"_ Ginny demanded, her expression aghast. "Why?"

"Just saw the notice in the common room and went to speak to McGonagall about it," Harry said glumly. "She and Madam Hooch reckon it's not safe, even if a teacher supervises the practices – we've had too many Quidditch-related accidents in recent years when there _hasn't_ been such a blatant threat, and of course if anyone managed to infiltrate the wards, the Quidditch pitch would be a prime target."

"I suppose that makes sense," Hermione said, though she too sounded upset. "After all, most Quidditch players don't even bring their wands onto the pitch with them – can you imagine what would happen if there was an attack?"

"It does make sense," Draco agreed. "But still…no Quidditch? That would be the one thing guaranteed to take everyone's mind off all the horrible stuff that's been happening…"

"Maybe we could organize pick-up games in the Room of Requirement?" Hermione suggested. "Merlin knows there are plenty of Quidditch players in the D.A…."

"It's not the same," Harry groaned. "Not at all." He paused and ran his hands through his hair.

"I need to fly," he said after a moment. "I have all this excess energy and I need to get it out – you guys with me? It is Friday night, after all."

"Transform the room?" Ginny clarified. Harry nodded, and she shrugged.

"Fine by me." Hermione and Draco agreed, and the quartet left their belongings behind and trooped out into the corridor. As soon as the door had vanished, Harry began to pace.

"I need a place to vent," he muttered to himself. "I need a place to blow off some steam…" He continued uttering variations of this phrase as he paced back and forth, and on the third pass, the door reappeared.

"Get ready for a good long training session," Harry said as he opened the door. But what was on the other side took him by surprise – instead of the training room they'd been expecting, they were in an enormous, cathedral-like room, the vaulted ceilings almost too high to make out. Save for a narrow aisle that provided walking space, every inch of the floor was covered with junk – everything from old desks and outdated textbooks to broken broomsticks and rusty cauldrons rose in towering piles on all sides, and the friends surveyed the vast expanse in shocked silence.

"Where are we?" Hermione murmured in awe.

"No idea," Harry replied, slowly walking forward to examine what appeared to be a Fanged Frisbee. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say we found the cast-off space for every Hogwarts student since the founding."

"Sort of like the world's biggest lost-and-found?" Ginny wondered, poking at a pile of robes with her wand. A cloud of dust erupted from the robes, and she sneezed violently.

"Or the world's biggest hiding place," Draco corrected. "Take a closer look – a lot of this is old or broken, but there's plenty of contraband stuff too." A second glance proved that Draco was right – many of the items they recognized as being on Filch's banned list, and they couldn't even identify a number of other strange-looking objects.

"The Room must've given us this for a reason," Harry mused. "I did ask for a way to blow off some steam…shall we take a look around?"

"I suppose it can't hurt," Hermione said. "Though I'd be careful what you touch – the remnants on those cauldrons look absolutely foul."

"Duly noted," Draco said, making a face at the ghastly green substance splattered across a nearby armchair that had lost half its stuffing. "I don't even _want_ to know what that is…"

The friends wandered through the maze of junk for nearly ten minutes, occasionally finding something interesting amidst the castle's lost treasures. An old Snitch floated lazily overhead, and they found a series of old photographs that had them appreciating the changes in Wizarding fashion over time. There was a truly ugly bust of some long-dead wizard even Hermione didn't recognize, and the girls in particular exclaimed over a delicate circlet that seemed to be inlaid with real sapphires.

"Look at this," Harry said suddenly, reaching for an old textbook sitting on top of a broken side table. "Does this look familiar to any of you?" Ginny shrugged, but Hermione recognized the book immediately.

"That's the book Ron was using in Potions last year, isn't it?" she said.

"Must be," Harry replied. "Look at the back – _'This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince'._ Who is this 'Prince' bloke, anyway?" He began thumbing through the book, stopping every now and then to examine the miniscule, cramped handwriting that cluttered every spare bit of the margins.

"A Potions genius, apparently," Hermione said, her eyes wide as she read the unknown owner's alterations to the instructions for the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. "I don't understand half of these changes, but the ones I do make perfect sense…"

"Of course he's a Potions genius," Draco said suddenly, leaning closer to study the book.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Are you saying you know who this book belonged to?"

"Of course," Draco repeated. "Don't you recognize the handwriting?" Harry, Hermione, and Ginny looked closer once more.

 _"Oh,"_ Hermione breathed, finally seeing what Draco saw. Draco raised his eyebrows knowingly and nodded.

"We only saw that handwriting in every Potions lesson for five years," he said. Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"Snape?" he breathed. "This was _Snape's_ book? Then what in Merlin's name is it doing in here?"

"It does seem a rather uncharacteristic and careless move," Hermione agreed. "Then again, he obviously thought keeping it in his cupboard was safe enough, and look where it ended up – perhaps he thought hiding it up here was the best thing to do, short of destroying the book entirely?"

"He could have kept it in his quarters," Ginny pointed out.

"Maybe he thought it was less likely to be found again up here?" Draco mused. "No idea…but unless someone else has handwriting like that, that's definitely Snape's book."

"What's with the Half-Blood Prince thing?" Harry wondered.

"I dunno," Hermione admitted. "Obviously it's a nickname of sorts, but why?"

"I think we should try the library," Ginny suggested. "Old Hogwarts records and such, see if they'll give us a clue. After all, it's not like we can just go ask Snape about it, can we?"

"Draco probably could," Harry said. "But you're right – that's a bit of a strange question, even for your godfather."

"Library it is, then," Hermione concluded. "Not that it's important in the grand scheme of things, mind, but it might be nice to close off that particular mystery."

Deciding it was best to leave the book where they'd found it in case Snape ever came looking for it again, the quartet moved on and continued to explore the room.

"What is _that?"_ Ginny asked sharply as they rounded a bend. Harry, Draco, and Hermione stopped short behind her, and Harry actually growled as he caught sight of the object that had caught Ginny's eye.

"It's the Vanishing Cabinet," he said through clenched teeth. "What in the seven hells is it still doing here?"

"Is it still active?" Hermione asked in alarm. "Nobody bothered to try and find it after…?" She trailed off, but they all understood her unfinished question: _Why the_ hell _had nobody tried to find it after Nott had used it to bring Death Eaters into the castle?_

"I think I understand why the Room gave us this space when you asked for a place to blow off steam," Draco muttered. Harry understood immediately and picked up his wand.

 _"Diffindo!"_ he shouted. A large chunk of the right-hand door broke away as a massive crack split the wood. Harry smirked.

"Blow off some steam, indeed," he said. "Care to join me?"

The air was soon filled with shouted spells:

 _"Bombarda!"_

 _"Confringo!"_

 _"Deprimo!"_

Bits and pieces of wood and hardware flew in all directions as jets of light shot from the teenagers' wands and collided with the cabinet. The destruction was agonizingly and frustratingly slow, however, and finally, Ginny couldn't take it anymore.

 _"REDUCTO!"_ she screamed. A bright blast of light raced from her wand and hit the cabinet, which exploded in a giant ball of fire and smoke. When the scene finally cleared, all that remained of the Vanishing Cabinet was a large pile of smoldering ashes.

 _"That_ was for my brother," she spat at the ashes. Harry, Hermione, and Draco stared at her in shock.

"Easy, Gin," Harry said. Ginny's eyes flashed angrily, but they softened as she turned to her friends.

"Guess I just got a little carried away," she said with a shrug. "Anybody want to see if we can actually make the Room give us our training ground now?"

* * *

The next day, the trio decided to act on Draco's suggestion of searching the _Daily Prophet_ for clues – as their efforts since the start of term had yet to yield anything useful, turning to a new source, however unreliable, couldn't hurt. It wasn't until they'd actually gone to the library, however, that they understood the sheer scope of their task.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered as he surveyed the room before them. As it turned out, Hogwarts was home to the only complete collection of _Daily Prophet_ archives outside of the newspaper's own offices in Diagon Alley, and while that was far more than they could've hoped for, it made for an incredibly daunting task. The _Prophet_ had been in publication for well over two hundred years, and it ran an issue a day, plus special editions if necessary – that meant that they were now facing close to a hundred thousand newspapers, with very little clue where to start.

"Erm…maybe we should split it up somehow?" Hermione suggested timidly. "One of us start at the very beginning, one of us start when Riddle first went to Hogwarts, and one of us start somewhere in the middle?"

"When did Riddle start here?" Draco asked. "Late 1930s, yeah?"

"That sounds about right," Hermione said. "If the Chamber of Secrets was first opened in the 1942-43 school year, then yes, 1930s."

"I'll start there," Draco volunteered. "See if I can't learn anything more about Riddle while I'm at it."

"Any preference, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged.

"I'll take the beginning, I s'pose," he replied.

"Then I'll start in the middle," Hermione concluded. "If you find anything interesting, give a shout." The three selected editions of the paper relevant to their chosen time frames and settled down at the large tables in the periodicals archive to read.

It was frustratingly slow work. Hermione taught the boys a charm that would allow them to search using keywords, similar to a Muggle computer search engine, but the charm wasn't nearly as effective as they'd hoped, and they found articles on everything from Godric Gryffindor's grand-niece's hippogriff breeding program to the detailed history of the inventor of Fizzing Whizbees. Eventually, they gave the charm up as a bad job and paged through each edition manually, and while they found dozens of odd headlines, nothing jumped out at them as a potential lead.

"Apparently the hit musical act of 1932 was a girls' group called Patsy and the Pixies," Draco said over an hour later. Harry and Hermione snorted.

"Travelers were in an uproar over restrictions surrounding the pyramids of Wizarding Egypt," Hermione offered, holding up her own paper.

"And the Minister of Magic in the 1750s had seriously weird hair," Harry concluded, sharing the picture he'd just found as proof. He tossed the paper aside and took off his glasses, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "This is bloody ridiculous."

"But you know that if we skip even one edition, we'll miss what we're looking for," Hermione said reluctantly. Harry glanced up at the stacks of old newspapers they hadn't yet touched and groaned.

"At this rate, we'll be lucky if our grandchildren find anything in here," he said.

"Hey, at least you're saying we'll stick around long enough to have grandchildren," Draco pointed out. Neither Gryffindor could fault this little bit of optimism, however odd it seemed, and they resolved to put in another half hour's hard work before calling it quits for the night.

"Obviously we can't spend every spare minute in here – we'll never pass our classes if we do," Hermione said as they gathered their things and prepared to leave for dinner. "But if we find ourselves with a free period and nothing to do, it might be a good idea to pop in here and keep working."

The knowledge of how many newspapers they had yet to touch made the prospect a formidable one, but with so little else to go on, they knew it was an avenue they couldn't afford to abandon.

* * *

 **A/N: There we go - no more Vanishing Cabinet! Very satisfying scene to write. And what else are they going to find in the _Prophet_ archives, I wonder...**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Made up for my bad updating with 2 chapters in 2 days, woohoo!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	7. The Turning Point

Harry and his friends did their best to concentrate on their studies and pretend that this was just another year at Hogwarts, but that was next to impossible when Quidditch was cancelled, their updates from the Order were getting grimmer by the day, and a large chunk of their library time was spent in pursuits that were decidedly non-academic. Their _Daily Prophet_ search had yet to yield anything useful, and they were still in the dark as to the remaining Horcruxes' identities, but they _had_ made progress when it came to destroying them – on a whim, Hermione had cast a Summoning Charm during a free period, and a series of books, all of them pertaining to Horcruxes, had soared in through her open dormitory window.

"But I thought we'd searched the library from top to bottom?" Harry questioned as he gingerly paged through _Secrets of the Darkest Art,_ which was a truly horrible book indeed.

"We did," Hermione agreed, wincing at a particularly gruesome description in her own book. "But I don't think these books have been in the library for a long time. I think someone – Dumbledore, I'm guessing – removed them from the shelves ages ago."

"Are you saying these have been in Dumbledore's office all along?" Draco asked incredulously. "All those times we were in there last year, and he didn't once think it important to mention that he had a book outlining exactly how to destroy Horcruxes?"

"There are a lot of things Dumbledore didn't tell us," Harry said bitterly, "but it's a bit late for all that now, isn't it? Anyway, what does that book say?"

"Horcruxes can only be completely destroyed if they're broken beyond magical repair," Draco told them, "which means that the possibilities are few and far between. Harry, I don't think it was the basilisk fang alone that destroyed the diary, but the venom, which kills in a matter of minutes without its equally rare antidote."

"Phoenix tears," Harry supplied, recalling the suspenseful moments before Fawkes had cried over Ginny's wound and saved her from the horrible poison coursing through her.

"Mhmm. What exactly happened when you stabbed the diary?"

"Well," Harry said, looking thoughtful, "the venom burned a hole through it from cover to cover, and there was ink squirting all over the place. The memory-Riddle we'd been dealing with screamed and then exploded, and that was it."

"And considering that the memory-Riddle was actually the soul fragment, I think that was the destruction of the actual Horcrux, rather than just the vessel," Hermione said. "The venom was powerful enough that it rendered the Horcrux irreparable – the question is, what else can do that?"

"I don't know," Draco admitted. "The book only gives one specific example, which is Fiendfyre – I'm guessing it uses that particular example because it's a charm, so it's not like basilisk venom where you'd have to hunt down an extremely rare substance. Unless we found ourselves a completely fire-proof space, I'd never dare use it, though – from what I understand, Fiendfyre can get out of hand almost immediately if you don't know how to control it, and even if you do, it's still extremely risky."

"So basically, you're saying that in order to destroy Horcruxes, you need something that's not only very powerful, but also very dangerous," Harry said with a groan.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Great. Just great."

* * *

One afternoon in early October, Harry, Draco, and Hermione were taking advantage of one of the last nice days they were sure to have for a long while with a walk around the grounds. In addition to the change of scenery, it was just about the only place they could think of besides the Room of Requirement where they wouldn't be overheard – the front page of today's _Prophet_ had been particularly disturbing, and they wanted to be able to discuss it in earnest. They'd just about reached Hagrid's hut when a familiar voice shouted Harry's name and they turned to see Ginny racing towards them, her schoolbag bouncing against her hip and a worried expression on her face.

"What's up, Gin?" Harry asked, immediately noticing her anxiety. In response, Ginny reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, which, upon further inspection, was the same issue of the _Daily Prophet_ they were currently discussing.

"You've seen this?" she questioned. The others nodded.

"Yeah, we have," Harry replied. "We were just talking about it, actually." The headline, 'Ministry Partners with Azkaban', was definitely an odd one, and they weren't sure they wanted to know the implications of such a thing.

"I've also got a letter from Dad," Ginny said, removing that from her bag as well. "'Partnership' isn't really the best word for it – the Death Eaters have _taken over_ Azkaban."

 _"What?"_ Hermione gasped. "Oh no…"

"Oh, yes," Ginny said grimly. "And it's just as bad as you might think, if not worse – what few human guards the prison had were either killed or put under the Imperius, and You-Know-Who now has full control of the Dementors. They've also released everyone loyal to their cause, and that includes our favorite Defense professor." None of them missed the blatant sarcasm in Ginny's stressing of the word 'favorite', and Harry swore angrily, his clenched fists causing the words 'I must not tell lies' to stand out brilliantly against his skin.

"Got off enough on torturing students that she's turned to the Dark side?" Hermione hissed. "She damn well earned that cell and now she's loose on the world again?"

"It's not exactly surprising," Ginny said sardonically. "It's no secret the woman _loathes_ Muggle-borns – if I had any spare change to bet, I'd say You-Know-Who is definitely going to exploit that to his advantage."

"And if that's not bad news, I don't know what is," Draco said. "Umbridge or You-Know-Who alone is bad enough, but the two of them working together?" Hermione shuddered.

"Don't," she pleaded. "I don't want to think about that."

"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know that there's anything we _can_ do," Harry admitted, sounding defeated. "Hogwarts is still safe for now, and that's the best we can hope for at the moment."

A soft rustling of leaves made them all jump, and they turned, wands out, towards the Forbidden Forest, sure that the noise had originated from within. Hermione and Ginny looked confused, narrowing their eyes as if doing so might somehow make the threat more visible, but Harry and Draco gasped and instinctively moved in front of the girls.

"Harry, what the-"

"Ginny, they might be dangerous!" Harry interrupted, still training his wand on the unseen source. Hermione turned to look at him.

"Harry…what exactly are you looking at?" she asked slowly. "There's nothing there." Harry made to reply, but another voice, one they all recognized, cut in before he could do so.

"Oy, you lot! What brings yeh down ter these parts today?"

"Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up into the huge, hairy face of Hogwarts' gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures instructor. "How are you?"

"Well enough, I s'pose," Hagrid replied. "Bin a bit stressed lately, if I'm tellin' the truth."

"Haven't we all?" Harry remarked. He still hadn't taken his eyes off whatever it was he'd seen in the forest, and Hagrid turned his gaze towards the tree line.

"Ah…no need ter worry 'bout them, Harry," he said softly. "They're just wantin' a bit of food – bin gettin' harder fer them ter find anything, what with the tension in the Forest an' all." He motioned to his shoulder, where they saw a large carcass of what looked like a cow that they hadn't noticed before.

"Tension?" Ginny questioned. "What's going on? And what are…whatever Harry and Draco are seeing?"

"Well, tha' one's easy," Hagrid replied, his beetle-black eyes twinkling in their usual cheery manner. "Those two righ' there – they're thestrals, they are."

"Thestrals?" Harry repeated, obviously not familiar with the term.

"I know they don' look like much, but they won' hurt you," Hagrid said.

"Sorry, but what _do_ they look like?" Ginny interrupted. "I don't know what you three are going on about, but I don't see anything at all."

"They're…winged horses," Harry said, the pause suggesting that he wasn't quite sure how to describe what he was seeing. "Black, and…skeletal – they don't seem to have any flesh, actually, just bones and their coats. And white eyes – their eyes are white, without any pupils."

"They sound creepy," Ginny said with a shiver.

"Nah," Hagrid said, waving his hand dismissively. "Alrigh', so some people migh' think they look a bit frightening, and they've got a bit of a bad reputation, but like I said before, they won' hurt you."

"But why can Harry and Draco see them?" Ginny pressed. "I'm so confused!"

"Thestrals are invisible unless yeh've seen death," Hagrid said quietly. Ginny's confused expression morphed into one of ashamed horror.

"Oh…" she murmured. "That…that would explain it, I suppose." Harry and Draco had, of course, witnessed Dumbledore's death mere months ago.

"Seen death, and accepted it as such," Hagrid continued. "So, say, a small child migh' see an older fam'ly member or pet die, but not exactly understand what it means, yeh see? I wanted ter show them ter my students – we have a whole herd an' they're dead useful; they pull the school carriages an' have an amazing sense of direction – but wha' with everythin' in the Forest, I don' think it's safe."

"What's happened in the Forest?" Hermione asked gently.

"Things have bin a bit tense fer a while, but ever since Aragog died, it's gotten loads worse," Hagrid said.

"Aragog?" Draco asked.

"Gian' spider – raised him meself, from an egg," Hagrid replied. He sniffed loudly, and his eyes were glassy with the distinct sheen of tears. "Course, he'd bin gettin' on in years and was blind for long's I can remember, but…well, he died las' month, and now the rest of the colony's all restless – even I can' get near them anymore. It's causin' an uproar – the centaurs are righ' furious, an' the spiders aren' bein' picky abou' what they hunt. The thestrals are havin' a righ' hard time findin' food because of it, so I bring stuff for 'em as often as I can."

"Hopefully that's nothing we have to worry about," Hermione replied, sounding concerned. "The last thing we need is for something in there to side with You-Know-Who."

"I can' say fer certain, Hermione," Hagrid said solemnly. "The Forest has always bin dangerous, yeah, but yeh could get through it well enough if yeh were smart. Now, though…losin' the giants was bad enough; I don' think we'd be able ter handle it if anything in here were ter turn on us too."

"We lost the giants?" Draco asked, sounding dismayed. "When did that happen?"

"Well, it's not really bein' broadcasted, yeh know," Hagrid replied, though he too sounded upset. "Wen' meself, this summer, ter try an' persuade 'em – Olympe Maxime, from tha' French school, came too – but we were too late. You-Know-Who had gotten there first, and there was no turnin' 'em back after tha'. All we could do ter get out with our lives." The friends shivered – giants were fearsome, brutal creatures; the thought of Voldemort having them on his side was definitely not good.

"Good news is definitely at a premium these days," Harry muttered dejectedly.

"I wish I could tell yeh differently, I really do," Hagrid said honestly. "Now, as much as I like talking ter you lot, yeh'd best be gettin' back up ter the school – looks like a storm, an' it's not safe for yeh ter linger out here too long."

"You take care of yourself as well," Hermione said seriously. "Be careful in there." Hagrid reassured them that he would, and with a final farewell, he trudged into the trees while the teenagers hurried back up to the castle. They'd only just made it to the front doors when Hagrid's prediction came true and the skies opened up, pelting the castle and everything around it with cold, fat raindrops.

"Losing the giants is really bad," Harry said as they said goodbye to Draco and hurried back up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Not as bad a potential uprising in the Forest," Hermione replied with a frown. "And we have an entire Acromantula colony in there! How is that not terrifying?"

"Oh, it definitely is," Ginny assured her. "Spiders the size of cart horses – ugh!" She shuddered violently.

"Could their venom possibly be a solution to you-know-what?" Harry wondered then, careful to speak vaguely in case someone – or something – they couldn't see was listening in.

"I don't think so," Hermione said slowly. "They're poisonous, yes, but not nearly as much as a basilisk, so I don't think the venom's strong enough to do what we'd need it to do. Besides, how would we collect it? Unless I'm mistaken, Acromantula venom is best when it's fresh – Hagrid's spider friend died over the summer, and I'm certainly not going anywhere near a live one if I can help it."

"Me neither," Ginny and Harry agreed at once.

"Looks like we're back at square one, then," Harry said as he gave the Fat Lady the password. "I have no idea how, but we have to get those basilisk fangs."

* * *

Roughly two weeks after the Azkaban takeover, Harry and the rest of the students were eating dinner when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor Snape strode in, looking agitated. He hurried up to the high table and spoke in hushed tones with Professor McGonagall, whose eyes widened before she nodded firmly and stood, her lips set in a thin line.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, and Miss Granger, please follow me immediately," she said briskly. Without another word, she and Snape swept from the room, bursts of confused conversation erupting in their wake.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, glancing across the room and meeting Draco's equally confused gaze, "but we should probably go with them – it sounded urgent." Harry nodded, and the trio left their seats and hurried from the hall, anxious to catch up with their professors. As it turned out, McGonagall and Snape were waiting in the entrance hall.

"What happened, Professor?" Harry asked immediately.

"Not here, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall replied tersely. "Things are being set in motion that we cannot ignore, but it is not safe to speak of them here – my office is closest." The group quickly made their way to the Head's office – while Professor McGonagall still favored her old Transfiguration office over this one, the Head's office was far more secure and less likely to be interrupted – and they all took seats.

"What happened?" Harry repeated as soon as he felt it acceptable. Whatever it was, it was something big…

"I have just returned from a…meeting with the Dark Lord," Snape said. The trio knew, of course, that Snape was a double agent, using his position as a marked Death Eater to gain valuable information for the Order, but the sheer danger of his position never failed to amaze them.

"The meetings of late have been dark, of course, but tonight's was far more disturbing," Snape continued. "One Dolores Jane Umbridge has apparently been hard at work – it seems the Dark Lord is serious in his quest to rid the Wizarding community of Muggle-borns, because Umbridge has created – and put into effect – something called the Muggle-born Registration Commission."

"The Muggle-born Registration Commission?" Hermione repeated, not liking the sound of that at all.

"It is exactly what it sounds like, Miss Granger," Snape said almost impatiently. "Their latest angle is that magic cannot come from nothing, and so Muggle-borns must have stolen theirs from another witch or wizard."

"But that's ridiculous!" Harry burst out. "There are countless Muggle-borns in the Wizarding world! And how do you explain Squibs in that case?"

"Mr. Potter, let me finish!" Snape snapped. "I never said I _agreed_ with what they are doing, but it is essential that you understand it so that you understand what must come next!" Harry fell silent, looking properly ashamed, and Snape continued.

"They're branding stealing magic as a criminal offense punishable by time in Azkaban," he said. "They've already started rounding up Muggle-borns under the pretenses of their having to 'register' with the Ministry of Magic – a lower-level Ministry employee lost his job today for having a Muggle-born wife, and every single Muggle-born who went to the Ministry today has disappeared, presumably to the prison."

"So this is already happening?" Hermione asked weakly.

"Yes," Snape replied curtly. "Umbridge was tonight's 'guest of honor', so to speak, and she went on at length about the 'immediate success' of the program."

"What does that mean for Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Was there any mention of the children?"

"If this had been put into effect before the start of term, I have no doubt that all Muggle-born children would have been rounded up by now – whether in Diagon Alley while purchasing school supplies or at Kings Cross while attempting to board the train, I do not know, nor do I know where they would have been taken."

"But if they have a way of sending official summons for registration to Muggle-borns, that must mean they've gained access to some sort of blood status records," Draco said, "which would mean they'd have a list of all the Muggle-born students at Hogwarts."

"And therein lies the problem," Snape said. "Now that this program is in effect, it is only a matter of time before they go after the students as well."

"We can't let that happen, Severus," Professor McGonagall said firmly, a tight frown on her face. "I _won't_ let it happen – but what can we do without compromising your position?"

"We are free to do whatever we need to do," Snape said smoothly. "The Ministry employees all know of this program by now, so you would not necessarily have heard of it from me – Arthur Weasley could have told you, or perhaps Kingsley Shacklebolt. The Dark Lord might even expect me to pass along such information, given that he wants me to maintain my position here for as long as possible. Acting on this information will not put me in any danger, I assure you."

"What can we do, Professor?" Hermione asked, looking very worried. "Most of the Muggle-borns here are underage, a number of them first-years who can barely do basic magic, never mind defend themselves!"

"No, they cannot," Professor McGonagall agreed with a sigh, "and that is why we must evacuate them." Harry, Draco, and Hermione stared at one another in shock.

 _"Evacuate_ them?" Harry repeated. "But where are they going to go?"

"We don't have much choice but to send them to Order safe houses for now," Professor McGonagall explained grimly. "I will personally contact the parents and persuade them to take their children and leave the country if they can, but for those who can't, the safe houses will have to do. It's the only way we can possibly guarantee their safety."

"When are we doing this?" Draco asked.

"As soon as possible – we don't know when You-Know-Who plans to come after Hogwarts, so we can't take any chances. We'll need a safe place for any available Order members to meet up with the students and take them away – perhaps Aberforth will be able to help." Aberforth, they knew, was Dumbledore's brother and the proprietor of the Hog's Head, a bar in Hogsmeade.

"I'm not leaving," Hermione said suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger?"

"I said I'm not leaving," Hermione repeated firmly. "I know I'm a Muggle-born but I can't! I just can't."

"What are you talking about?" Snape demanded. "All three of you _must_ leave!"

"All three of us?" Harry asked. "But why?"

"Mr. Potter, I thought you'd at least inherited some of your mother's common sense!" Snape said impatiently. "You are the Dark Lord's biggest prize, Miss Granger is your Muggle-born best friend, and Mr. Black…Mr. Black is the ultimate definition of a traitor in his eyes! He might see the potential for pulling Draco away from you two and turning him to the Dark, but other than that, he'd see you three dead in a heartbeat!"

"But we can't leave!" Hermione protested. "The Hogwarts library might be our only chance of finding what we need to bring down You-Know-Who for good! Hogwarts is still safer than anywhere else; there must be _somewhere_ we can stay in the castle and still be alright!"

"Miss Granger-"

"They found Hermione's parents' house easily enough!" Harry cut in. "Who's to say they couldn't find us anywhere else? Learn the location of Grimmauld Place? Force our hiding spot out of someone who can't resist the Imperius? Anyone housed with us would be in terrible danger!"

"There might be a way for them to stay, Severus," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "However, it is imperative that no one – and I mean _no one_ – be told of your plans. Everyone would have to believe that you were leaving as well, or the plan would be for naught."

"Where would we stay, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"One of the guest quarters – they are rarely used and can be password protected easily enough."

"But that won't get them their library access, or food," Snape said.

"We have the invisibility cloak, and the Marauder's Map," Draco said. "If it comes down to it, I'm sure we can arrange a special time to use the library with Madam Pince so that we won't get caught unawares. As for food, Dobby's still here – I'm sure he'll be thrilled to have something special to do, and since he technically still responds to me, I could swear him to secrecy."

"I still don't like it much, but it's the best idea we have," Professor McGonagall said, "and I know you three are stubborn enough that you won't have it any other way, so there's no sense arguing about it. Now, on to the plans for the evacuation…"

* * *

 **A/N: So...time to get the Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts. Also, school starts again next week, which means I can go back to my usual Wednesday updates - yay! Thanks again for all your patience over the summer.**

 **Thanks also for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! You guys are the best, really, & your kind words make my day.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	8. Departures and Arrivals

They planned the evacuation for the day before Halloween, which gave them just under two weeks to iron out the details. Professor McGonagall had asked the trio to call on Dumbledore's Army for help, and they had risen to the occasion beautifully. The group sat in their usual circle on the floor of the Room of Requirement – this was now their second meeting since the headmistress had first spoken with the trio, and Harry was hoping for some good news.

"So," he began, "the evacuation is getting closer every day. Anyone have any updates?"

"I heard from Justin," Ernie Macmillan said. "His parents kept him home this year, as you know, but they're still in the country – they'd be happy to host as many as we need them to."

"Ernie, that's great!" Harry exclaimed. "Please tell them I said thank you, really."

"My grandparents as well," Tracey added. "You know their place isn't very big, but they're willing to host regardless."

"Even if they can only take one or two, that's one or two less we need to worry about," Harry reminded her. "At last count, McGonagall had thirty-seven Muggle-born students on her list – that doesn't seem like a lot, but when you factor in that most safe houses only have room for three or four at most, that's still a lot of safe houses we need to find."

"Only thirty-seven?" Susan questioned. "Wow – did that many really not come back this term?"

"The vast majority of them stayed home," Harry answered quietly. "And with everything that's going on in the Wizarding world right now, can you really blame them?"

"What about you, Hermione?" Ernie asked. "Are you one of the thirty-seven?"

"No," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "I'm not."

"But you're still a Muggle-born," Terry Boot said, his expression concerned. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't actually know," Hermione admitted. "We" – she gestured to Harry, Draco, and herself – "are all leaving too, but we don't know where we're going." Of course, they were really only going into hiding within Hogwarts, but none of the others present could know that.

"You-Know-Who has reason to be interested in all three of us specifically," Draco elaborated. "Harry – well, that's a bit obvious, isn't it? Hermione's his Muggle-born best friend, not to mention that they've already gone after her parents, and I'm the son of one of the most prominent former Death Eaters out there – not that I'm proud of that fact, mind you, but it's still the truth. We can't rule out the possibility that he might try to come after me and convert me to his cause. Because of all that, McGonagall wants the three of us to go into hiding, but she hasn't said where, and for all our safety's sake, it's probably best that we _don't_ know until we get there." The explanation was a believable one, but Draco still hated that he had to lie to his friends.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Ginny said then, looking both frustrated and upset. "We've never had to resort to sending students away before."

"Hopefully it won't be for long," Susan replied, thought she looked doubtful. "Hogwarts just doesn't feel the same anymore."

Harry sighed and checked over his notes to make sure he hadn't missed anything he needed to pass along to his friends. As much as he hated to admit it, Susan was definitely right.

* * *

The morning of the thirtieth was foggy and cold. Harry had trouble concentrating in class – he was far too worried about what was to come. What if the Death Eaters somehow found out about their plans and ambushed them? What if something happened and the Order members assigned to the evacuation couldn't come? What if Snape was wrong and Voldemort punished him for letting the Muggle-borns escape? What if, what if, what if? These questions and more bounced around Harry's head all morning, and as a result, he was a frazzled mess by lunchtime.

The evacuation was scheduled in stages so as to attract as little attention as possible, and as Harry, Draco, and Hermione were in charge of overseeing the entire thing, they made their way to the seventh floor right after lunch. Aberforth Dumbledore, who had agreed to allow the fleeing students to leave via the Hog's Head, had revealed a secret tunnel that led directly from his private parlor to the Room of Requirement, and Harry had practiced opening the passage the day before. The fact that none of the Muggle-borns would be out in the open steadied his nerves somewhat, and by the time Professor McGonagall arrived, Harry was far calmer than he'd been just an hour before.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied. Draco and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Very well. Let us begin." Professor McGonagall raised her wand, and a silver cat shot from the tip and hurried off in search of its quarry.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, the trio waited in the Room of Requirement. Every so often, the door would open and a member of Dumbledore's Army would enter, followed by a small group of students with their luggage in tow. The trio would wish them good luck before opening the passage, and the group would continue on its way. Sometimes the DA member would return, but sometimes not – Dean Thomas, for instance, had volunteered to go with the Muggle-borns staying at the Burrow to help Molly and Arthur, as this group was larger than most. The move was for Dean's own safety as well – his mother was a Muggle, and since his father had left them when Dean was small without ever mentioning magic, Dean had no concrete proof that he wasn't a Muggle-born himself.

"Take care of yourself, mate," Harry said as Dean made to go through the passageway.

"You too," Dean replied, clapping Harry on the back. "Stay safe." He cast a feather-light spell on his trunk and hurried after the other students in his group.

The final group, bound for Tonks' parents' house, arrived just before dinnertime. With them were Professors Snape and McGonagall, Daphne Greengrass, Anthony Goldstein, and Blaise, Tracey, and Ginny. Harry's heart clenched a little at the sight of them – there was a chance that Professor McGonagall might allow Ginny to know the truth once they were sure that all the Muggle-borns were safe, but Blaise and Tracey had to be kept in the dark, and Harry hated that he couldn't be honest with his close friends. The entire group clambered through the passageway and hurried along it, taking care to avoid the low wooden beams supporting the tunnel ceiling. After what seemed like hours, they finally reached the other end and climbed through a hole in the wall, which turned out to be above Aberforth's sitting room fireplace. The portrait guarding the entrance was of a young blonde girl, her sweet smile and twinkling blue eyes soothing to their tense nerves. Tonks was reclining on a shabby but clean sofa, and the trio recognized her father from the wedding. Aberforth himself was standing by the door that led down to his pub, his hands clasped behind his back and his usual stern expression on his face.

"These are the last ones, then, Minerva?" he asked gruffly.

"This is the last group, yes," Professor McGonagall confirmed. "Thank you, Aberforth, for letting us use this space." Aberforth grunted, which the Scottish witch must have accepted as some sort of acknowledgement, because she didn't comment any further.

"I'm just here to help them all get home at the same time, and then I'm going back to my place," Tonks said cheerily. "Mum's fixing dinner, so you'll all have something to eat when you get there." She turned to Draco and winked. "Wotcher, cousin – keep yourself safe, yeah? Constant vigilance?"

"Of course, Tonks," Draco replied, stepping through the group to pull her into a firm hug.

"You take care of yourself too," he said as he pulled away. "Say hi to Lupin for us, will you?"

"I will," Tonks promised, embracing Harry, Hermione, and Ginny in turn. "I'll say hi to your family as well, Gin – should be dropping 'round sometime this week."

"Thank you," Ginny said graciously.

"You'd best get going," Professor McGonagall said. "It wouldn't do to linger any longer than necessary."

"Right as always, Professor," Tonks said. "You lot ready to go?" The four students going to the Tonks house looked a little unsure of how to respond to the energetic young witch, but they nodded and clasped hands with Tonks and her father, and the group Disapparated with a loud _pop._

"And this is where we must leave you as well, I'm afraid," Professor McGonagall said. The eight remaining students immediately surged forward to exchange farewells.

"Take good care of everyone, and stay strong," Hermione told Daphne and Anthony. "Hogwarts needs its head students now more than ever." Daphne, who was close to tears, took Hermione's hands in her own and held on like a lifeline.

"It should have been you," she said, her lip trembling. "You should've been Head Girl, not me." Hermione shook her head sadly.

"It wouldn't have been safe, Daph," she said. "Look at me – it's not even November, and I have to leave school. Giving me the Head Girl badge would've been like hanging a flashing target over my head – but you've done wonderfully so far, and I have no doubt you'll continue to do so. I absolutely trust you with this – you're part of the DA, and you're my friend."

"Take care of yourself, Hermione," Anthony said seriously, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "We'd best be seeing you again soon, understand?" All three of them let their tears fall then as they hugged each other fiercely.

"Blaise…Trace…" Draco wasn't quite sure what to say to his friends now that their time had run out.

"This is it, isn't it?" Blaise said quietly. "The Muggle-borns have left, you're leaving – there's no going back now."

"Not until the Death Eaters are gone," Draco replied solemnly. Tracey shuddered and threw her arms around him.

"Merlin, Draco," she whispered. "Please, _please_ be careful – if they get their hands on you…"

"They won't, Trace," he said firmly. He gently released her before pulling Blaise into a brotherly hug.

"Be careful, you two," Draco said. "Now more than ever, you need to be the eyes and ears of Slytherin House – just because the Muggle-borns are all gone doesn't mean the remaining students don't need our help, and the Slytherins especially…"

"We'll keep them safe," Blaise promised. "Write to us if you can, and if you can't, we'll see you when this is all over, yeah?"

"Yeah."

The quietest goodbye was on the far side of the room, where Harry and Ginny said nothing, merely content to stand wrapped in each other's arms. Finally, though, Ginny pulled back to look up at him.

"Harry James Potter, if anything happens to you, I swear…" she began. Harry shushed her gently and pulled her closer.

"Nothing's going to happen, Gin," he said softly. "We'll see each other again before you know it." He desperately wanted to tell her the truth right then, but he knew it wasn't the time – Professor McGonagall would tell her as soon as she could.

"I can't…I just…" Ginny seemed either unwilling or unable to finish her thought and instead pulled him down for a fierce kiss. Harry returned the kiss for all he was worth, not caring in the slightest that they weren't alone and concentrating only on pouring everything he felt for Ginny into the embrace. They were flustered and breathless when they finally broke apart, their chests heaving, but neither moved to let go.

"I love you, Ginny," Harry whispered, brushing his lips across her forehead. Ginny's warm brown eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

"I know," she choked. "I love you too, oh, Merlin…" A few of the tears fell and she hurriedly brushed them away.

"It's time," Professor McGonagall said gently, knowing that prolonging the departure would only make it more painful in the end. Around the room, the teenagers slowly disengaged from various hugs, making sure to say goodbye to the others before eventually separating into two distinct groups – Harry, Hermione, and Draco with the headmistress and the others with Professor Snape.

"We'll see you soon," Hermione said softly. "Be safe."

"You too," Blaise replied. Tracey, Daphne, and Ginny's eyes were all still very wet, but Harry was happy to see that they were standing strong in spite of everything.

"Ariana, if you will," Aberforth said. The blonde girl in the painting nodded and swung forward, revealing the hidden passage once more.

"I will return as soon as I can, Severus," Professor McGonagall said. "Please make sure these five get back safely."

"Consider it done," Snape replied. Without another word, he ushered his charges through the portrait hole and out of sight. As soon as the portrait had closed, Harry retrieved his invisibility cloak from where he'd stashed it in a cupboard the day before, and he, Draco, and Hermione followed Aberforth and Professor McGonagall from the sitting room and down into the main dining area of the Hog's Head.

"Thank you again, Aberforth," Professor McGonagall said. Aberforth nodded and retreated behind the bar, where he began filling drink orders for a group of regulars.

"This way, please." The trio followed Professor McGonagall out of the pub and down the lane, passing a series of little cottages before stopping at the base of a hill. They clasped hands and Disapparated, reappearing just outside the main gates of Hogwarts. Harry immediately threw the invisibility cloak over himself, Draco, and Hermione, and they slowly made their way back up to the castle, eventually stopping in front of a painting of Hogsmeade just around the corner from the Head's office. Professor McGonagall whispered a password that none of them caught, and they found themselves in a short stone passageway, which ended in another painting, this one of the lake at sunset. A second password and they found their new quarters, which were small but comfortable.

"Your outer door password is 'Dumbledore's Army'," Professor McGonagall said. "The second password is 'cauldron cakes', but you should change it immediately, and every few days after that as a precaution. Once I've spoken to her, Miss Weasley will have the outer password, and Professor Snape knows it as well, but not even we should ever know your second password."

"We understand, Professor," Hermione said. "Thank you so much, for everything." Professor McGonagall gave her a thin smile.

"Let us hope, Miss Granger, that you find what you seek, and that we can end this conflict once and for all."

* * *

Professor McGonagall managed to speak to Ginny that very evening – while the redhead was initially angry and upset that she'd been kept in the dark, she understood the rationale behind it, and she promised to be discreet when visiting their hiding place. She also vowed to do her best to keep the DA running in spite of the trio's absence – with the Wizarding world getting darker by the day, they'd need all the help they could get.

Being in Hogwarts but not acting like students was very weird. Hermione initially suggested that they might still take turns going to classes under the invisibility cloak, but Harry quickly nixed that idea – the chances that someone might accidentally bump into them were too high, and so they couldn't risk it. The library, however, was another story, and they took advantage of their newfound plethora of spare time to continue their research in the _Daily Prophet_ archives. It was tedious work, and since it was too difficult for all three of them to fit easily under the cloak, they had to take turns, which made the task take even longer, but it was something to do.

Less than a week after their 'departure', Ginny came to them with grave news that put them on edge and made extreme caution a necessity – Voldemort had finally taken over Hogwarts.

"He's made Snape headmaster and put two Death Eaters on staff," she said.

"Snape's headmaster?" Harry asked. "What happened to McGonagall?"

"McGonagall is fine," Ginny reassured them quickly. "I think she realized it would mean her imprisonment or death if she resisted, so she stepped down without a fight – even if Snape is a Death Eater, McGonagall knows he's ultimately on our side, so she trusts him to keep the school safe."

"And who are the other Death Eaters?" Draco demanded.

"The Carrows – brother and sister," Ginny replied, making a face. "They're none too bright, but we all have to deal with them. Amycus is teaching DADA – although drop the 'defense' part, because from what I can tell he's really just teaching the Dark Arts – and Alecto's teaching Muggle Studies, which is now mandatory for everyone and is all about how Muggles are filthy, sub-human creatures who ought to be suppressed and treated like animals."

"No," Hermione hissed.

"Yeah," Ginny nodded. "It's awful, it really is. But you were right, Harry – as soon as they got here, the Carrows started looking for you. They were pretty mad when they realized you weren't here, but I think they believed that the rest of the teachers don't know where you are."

"Well, that's good at least," Harry said. "The last thing we need is a staff member being tortured because of us."

"Just keep your fingers crossed," Ginny said darkly. "These Carrows are far too fond of the Dark Arts for my liking."

* * *

One afternoon a few weeks later, Draco sat in the periodicals room of the library, idly paging through yet another edition of the _Evening Prophet._ Madam Pince, who was aware of their arrangement, had spelled the door to give them uninterrupted searching time – not that anyone else was likely to come looking through the old newspapers anytime soon, but it never hurt to be careful. Draco had been continuing his search chronologically, and so far, the only mildly interesting thing he'd managed to find was the answer to their 'Half-Blood Prince' mystery – Snape's mother, who was a witch, had been called Eileen Prince before she married, and her husband was a Muggle, which accounted for the 'half-blood' aspect of the moniker. Deciding to change things up a bit, Draco reached for a handful of more recent editions, hoping that some familiar names might make things more interesting even if he didn't find anything useful.

Draco was immediately rewarded. These more recent papers were filled with names and faces that he recognized, and he eagerly drank in everything from Tonks' birth announcement – she'd been a rather round baby, Draco noted with amusement – to lists of outstanding students at Hogwarts, beaming with pride when he found 'Lily Evans' listed as having achieved highest honors in her O.W.L.s.

Draco pulled another edition off the pile and began flipping through it. Voldemort's reign of terror was getting worse, and it reflected in the headlines – there were far too many deaths and unexplained disappearances. He quickly looked away from a particularly gruesome description of a triple murder in Bath and turned to the society pages – perhaps he'd find a wedding announcement to counterbalance all the blood and gore. A photograph at the top of the page caught his eye, and he watched the couple within as they strolled arm-in-arm down Diagon Alley. Draco was about to turn the page again when he stopped and looked at the photograph more closely. His eyes rapidly moved from the top of the page to the photo and back again, and he muttered a hasty _"Geminio"_ before rushing back to the stacks. Unless he suddenly couldn't read properly, something was very wrong here.

* * *

 **A/N: Two chapters in two days, huzzah! Lots to think about in this one...**

 **Thanks for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	9. The Heir and the Spare

Two hours later, Draco returned to the guest suite, a thick stack of copied newspaper articles clutched tightly in his hands. What he'd learned in the last few hours was overwhelming, to say the least, and he was still having trouble processing it all. Checking that the coast was clear, he muttered the first password and slipped inside, hurrying quickly to the second portrait. Dozens of questions were racing through his head, and he needed answers, _now._

"Hey, Draco," Harry greeted his brother as the blond hung up the invisibility cloak and entered their sitting area. His eyes widened as he took in the stack of parchment in Draco's hands. "Whoa – did you finally find something?" Hermione, who was paging through _Hogwarts, A History_ for the thousandth time in an almost desperate hunt for clues, perked up at Harry's inquiry. Before Draco could answer, however, there was a knock on the door, and he hastened to open it. He had a feeling he knew who was on the other side, and it was exactly the person he needed to talk to – Ginny would be too busy with dinner and homework at this time of night, and it wasn't Professor McGonagall's turn to check on them. After a quick spell to be absolutely sure, Draco opened the door and let Snape into the room.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded before Snape could say anything.

"Tell you what, exactly?" Snape asked. His eyebrows rose in a fashion that would've brought half the younger students to tears, but Draco stood his ground, undeterred.

"About _this!"_ Draco hissed, reaching into his pile of parchment and shoving one of the articles towards his godfather. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Tell you-"

 _"Read it!"_ The interruption was desperate, almost pleading, and so rather than question his charge any further, Snape did as Draco bid. When he finished, his eyes were wide.

"I don't understand," he said slowly.

"How can you-"

"Draco, what the hell is going on?" Harry demanded. In response, Draco snatched back the clipping and held it out for Harry to take. Harry held out the paper in silent invitation, and Hermione abandoned her book and scooted closer so that she could read it as well. Neither Gryffindor missed the fact that the Slytherin was trembling from head to toe.

"It's…your birth announcement?" she asked, cocking her head in confusion. "But…we've seen this before, at home…Draco Lucius Malfoy, born the fifth of June…time of birth…welcomed by parents Lucius and Narcissa, and…" Hermione stopped reading and stared at the clipping in shock. Beside her, Harry's mouth had fallen open and he was gaping at the announcement.

"This doesn't match the copy Mum has," Harry said hoarsely after a long moment. Lily had kept scrapbooks for each of the boys as they grew up, and thanks to Narcissa's thoroughness in passing on all of Draco's things, both boys' books began with their respective births.

"No, it doesn't," Draco whispered. All three of them stared at the bit Hermione hadn't finished reading: _welcomed by parents Lucius and Narcissa, and brother Scorpius, aged three._

"I had a brother," Draco said softly. "A _brother…_ why did no one ever tell me?" He turned to Snape again. "You're far more than just my professor – you were close with my parents, close enough that they made you my _godfather – why_ did you never once mention that they'd had more than one child?" His voice rose as he spoke, and everyone could see he was having a hard time keeping himself in check.

"I didn't know-"

"How is that possible?" Draco interrupted, his entire body shaking.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Snape roared, and the three teenagers were so shocked to hear the normally stoic man shouting that they all shut up at once. Draco still looked fit to burst, but he kept his mouth shut, his eyes demanding answers.

"I didn't know you had a brother until you showed me that article," Snape said evenly, though he was still breathing a bit heavily. "You're absolutely right – my relationship with your parents was such that I _should_ have known, and I can't explain why I didn't, but you must believe me when I say this is just as much news to me as it is to you." The explanation didn't make sense at all – if Scorpius had been mentioned in the papers, surely Snape had to have at least heard of the boy! – but Draco could see the sincerity in Snape's dark eyes: his godfather didn't understand any more than he did.

"Why have we never seen him around Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Surely we'd have noticed a student who looked like you…"

"He never came to Hogwarts," Draco said bluntly. "Scorpius died when he was seven." He Summoned his stack of clippings once more and extracted a second one, this one an obituary.

"I used that keyword spell you taught us, Lotte," he said as they read the announcement, Hermione gasping softly. "This is everything I could find about him. The obituary says he was sick, but I don't believe it." Snape looked up sharply.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"The evidence is right here," he replied, picking up the remaining articles and beginning to page through them so everyone could see. "You remained close with my parents even after they'd left school, you attended their wedding, they named you my godfather…I'm assuming you've been to the manor on multiple occasions?" When Snape nodded, Draco continued, "Exactly – unless my parents had reason to hide Scorpius away completely, it doesn't make any sense that you know nothing of him. Something's not right!"

"How did you even know to look for all this?" Harry asked as he examined one of the articles. Draco shuffled through the stack until he found the picture that had started his search.

"This," he said. The photo itself was unremarkable – Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy strolled down Diagon Alley, the latter noticeably pregnant. The masthead of the paper, however, was the problem – the issue dated from early 1977, a full three years before Draco's birth in June of 1980.

"I knew that, unless I was seeing things, the baby wasn't me," Draco explained. "And…well, I had to know."

"Dragon…" Hermione attempted to soothe him, but she didn't quite know what to say. To say that the news was a shock was a massive understatement. Draco shook his head and stood, walking back into the bedroom. He emerged a moment later, carrying a small stuffed dog.

"I found this in the Manor, the very first time I went," Draco said, placing the pup on the coffee table so everyone could see. "The room I found him in was completely destroyed, like someone had come through and torn it to pieces on purpose. I thought perhaps this dog had been mine and my mother had just missed it when she'd packed my things, but I see now that I was wrong – it was Scorpius', I know it, and that was his room. Something happened there, and I need to know what it was." He picked up the toy and stared at it, the longing evident in his gaze. "I need to know what happened to my brother," he finished quietly.

"Draco, I don't see how that's possible," Snape said. "If even I can't tell you anything, what makes you think there's someone out there who can?" Draco sighed heavily and nodded, obviously dejected, but beside him, Hermione suddenly perked up, her brows furrowed in concentration.

"I think I have to disagree with you, Professor," she said slowly, her expression thoughtful. "I think there _is_ someone who might be able to help."

"Who?" Draco asked, unable to keep the hopeful note from his voice.

"Your mother – her portrait, I mean," Hermione said softly. "It's a long shot, but she might be able to tell you something." She turned to Snape. "Is that possible? Would it be possible to get Draco to the manor to speak with Narcissa's portrait?"

"All of us," Draco cut in. When Hermione looked at him questioningly, he added, "I want you both to come with me – I don't want to do this alone." She nodded.

"I cannot guarantee that we will be able to do so," Snape cautioned, "but I will try."

"Thank you," Draco whispered. Snape nodded curtly and stood.

"Nothing new to report from the Order – the Death Eaters have been quiet recently," he said. "All is well in the safe houses, and I will let you know about the manor as soon as I can." He nodded once more, and with a sweep of his cloak, he was gone.

* * *

Three very tense days later, Snape, seemingly alone, made his way out of the castle and across the Hogwarts grounds. Behind him, being extremely careful not to make any unnecessary noise or movements that might betray the fact that the invisibility cloak really was too small to hide three teenagers, Harry, Draco, and Hermione picked their way across the lawn. They followed Snape all the way to the main gates, flanked by stone pillars topped with winged boars, and beyond, into a little copse of trees that sheltered the paths that led to Hogsmeade station and the village. Snape performed a series of subtle spells to ensure they were alone before holding out an old ladle.

"Grab on," he instructed. The trio did so quickly, understanding how difficult – not to mention highly illegal – it had been for Snape to obtain an untraceable Portkey. Snape muttered another spell to activate the device, and within seconds, they all felt the familiar tug as the Portkey whisked them away.

They landed in the lane just outside the main gates to Malfoy Manor, and Draco wasted no time in opening them and pulling the others through, latching the gate firmly behind them. As the wards still held, there was no need to do anything further – no one could enter the grounds without Draco's express permission – and the young master of the manor quickly led the way down the gravel path to his ancestral home.

"Oh, my…" Hermione gasped as they followed Draco into the house. She and Harry, of course, had never seen the place before, and neither could deny it was a beautiful residence. Draco, however, ignored his surroundings and hurried up the main staircase towards what was now his study.

"This way," he said, and he pushed open the heavy wooden door.

"Hello?" a soft voice called.

"Narcissa?" Draco replied, recalling the portrait's request for him to call her by her given name.

"Draco, darling, is that you?" As the quartet moved further into the room, they could all see the large portrait of a beautiful young blonde woman seated amongst roses in full bloom. "And Severus, it's lovely to see you again."

"Likewise," Snape said, inclining his head towards the portrait and taking a seat in a stiff armchair.

"But I'm afraid I don't know your friends, Draco," Narcissa continued, cocking her head curiously. "Won't you introduce me?"

"Of course," Draco replied. "This is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Harry, Lotte, Narcissa Malfoy."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said, Hermione echoing the sentiment. Narcissa smiled. She recognized Harry's name, of course, her living counterpart having told her all about the Boy-Who-Lived as well as her plans to place Draco with Lily Potter, and though Draco hadn't said who Hermione was, she hadn't missed the nickname or the subtle but profound way they looked at each other. She was only a portrait, that was true, but Narcissa could still observe and deduce as well as any Slytherin, and she could tell that Draco and this girl shared something special. She smiled knowingly at Draco and returned the newcomers' greetings.

"Not that I'm not pleased to see you, Draco, but why are you here?" she asked then. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"The Dark Lord has taken over Hogwarts, and for their own safety, these three have gone into hiding," Snape supplied. Narcissa gasped.

"How could he have taken Hogwarts?" she asked in dismay. "You've had to go into hiding?"

"Harry is at the top of You-Know-Who's most wanted list, obviously," Draco explained. "The Order of the Phoenix thinks there's a good chance he might try to get me away from them and turn me to his cause, and Hermione's a Muggle-born." He spoke this last bit in a matter-of-fact tone, but no one missed the challenging hint to his voice, nor his slight step in front of Hermione. Narcissa sighed, her eyes sad.

"Draco…your mother did not regret her choices for one moment, and neither do I." The words were vague, but the message was clear – Narcissa Malfoy, in all her forms, had stopped caring about blood purity long ago. Draco nodded and relaxed his stance, though he remained close to Hermione.

"Though the news is ominous, I suspect you came for other reasons," Narcissa continued. Draco nodded again and cleared his throat.

"What can you tell me about Scorpius Malfoy?" he asked, cutting straight to the point. Narcissa paled – if it were possible for a portrait to do such a thing – and brought her trembling hands to her mouth.

"Sam…" she murmured.

"Sorry?" Draco asked, clearly confused.

"It was what your mother called him," she said, the look in her blue eyes suggesting that she was remembering a time long ago. "Scorpius Abraxas Malfoy – S.A.M. She never said so in front of Lucius, because he'd made it quite clear what he thought of such a 'common' name, but he was her Sam."

"And why did I never know about him?" Draco pressed. "I'm seventeen years old, and never once has anyone ever mentioned that I had a brother. I don't remember him at all – I was only four years old when I left this house, but you'd think I would have at least remembered him!"

"Lucius' cruelty knows no bounds," Narcissa said, her expression somehow both pitying and fierce. "Your mother's grief had barely registered when it was taken away – how can you grieve for someone you never knew existed?"

"I don't understand," Draco said, looking confused.

"Not even a week after Sam's death, Lucius cast a spell – a very powerful, very Dark spell," Narcissa explained. "It has its origins in a Memory charm, but its purpose – and its result – are far more widespread. The spell erased every trace of Sam from any sort of records, both mental and physical. It ensured that no one remembered him, not even his own mother – it was as if Scorpius Malfoy had never existed. From that day on, the Malfoys had only one son, and as far as anyone knew, that was how it had always been."

"How do you know this?" Hermione asked softly. "And what did you mean by 'mental and physical' records?"

"I've hung in this study since Narcissa and Lucius married," the portrait explained. "Lucius…whenever he needed to do something that no one else was to know about, he came here. He had a habit of talking to himself – I learned a lot that way, most of it far from good. By 'mental and physical' records, I mean that the spell erased the written word as well as the memories – you won't find his birth records on file at St. Mungo's, nor will you find anything about him in the _Daily Prophet_ archives. Everything is gone."

"But I found several mentions of him in the periodicals archives at Hogwarts, including in my own birth announcement," Draco protested in confusion. "How is that possible?" Narcissa sighed.

"Hogwarts is surrounded by protection that most people can't even begin to understand," she said. "I can't be certain, but I suspect that the reason those records remained unchanged is because the wards protecting the castle prevented the curse from entering. Everything and everyone else, however, would have forgotten – Severus, you knew Sam, once upon a time, but I'm guessing you recall nothing of him now?" Snape shook his head.

"Draco's discovery was just as much of a surprise to me as it was to him," he replied.

"I suspected no less," Narcissa said with a sad smile. "The only reason I remember Sam is because portraits can't be altered in such a way."

"But they could be altered in other ways," Draco said suddenly, his expression suggesting he'd just remembered something. "The silenced portraits throughout the manor – Lucius did that, didn't he? And what can you tell me about the family portrait, the one outside the master suite?"

"He did," Narcissa acknowledged. "He froze everything, fearful as he was that the portraits would betray his secret – you see, the spell does not affect the caster, so Lucius remembered everything. As for the family portrait, I don't know much about it – the only other frame I could visit was in Narcissa's private rooms – but I suspect it's been altered somewhat?"

"I think so," Draco replied. "Lucius is so oddly positioned in it that it looks like something's been left out – or at least, that's what I'd thought. I think it's not a case of the painting being unfinished, but of something being painted over, actually."

"But there's one thing I don't understand," Harry said with a frown. "Why did Lucius do all of this? His son and heir had just died – why would he want to make everyone forget Sam so completely?" Narcissa's expression darkened.

"As I said before, Lucius' cruelty was unsurpassed, except perhaps by my sister and the Dark Lord himself," she said. "Sam was his heir, yes – oh, Lucius was so proud that he'd one-upped his fellow purebloods by having two children! An heir and a spare, as he constantly reminded everyone…you were far more than that to Narcissa, however – her sons were her pride and joy. And what lovely boys you were…but you grew older, and neither of you showed signs of magic. He wasn't altogether worried about you, Draco, as you were still so small, but Sam…Sam was three years older than you. His seventh birthday came and went…nothing." Hermione gasped, her eyes wide.

"No…" she whispered. Narcissa nodded sadly.

"You understand, don't you, Miss Granger?" she said.

"Children who don't show signs of magic by age seven have little to no chance of ever doing so," Hermione replied softly. "That would explain why even the Hogwarts scroll held no mention of him – Scorpius was a Squib."

"Lucius tried to deny it," Narcissa whispered. "Oh, how he tried to deny it! He tried to force the magic out of Sam at every turn, but it was no use – his son was as magical as a Muggle. And then, three months after his seventh birthday…" Narcissa choked, and they could all see the tears forming in her eyes.

"He passed it off as an accident, the bastard," she whispered scathingly. "He told his wife Scorpius had fallen down the stairs, but the way he gloated about it in here afterwards, when he thought no one was listening…the way he ranted and raved about how Draco's first display of magic had been a shield protecting his fallen brother…"

 _"What?"_ Draco whispered, at the same time Harry gasped, "Lucius murdered his own son!"

"The main staircase is made of marble and stone – Sam never stood a chance," Narcissa murmured. She choked back a sob and continued, "Lucius played the memory in a Pensieve afterwards, projected upwards, so I saw everything – I saw the hand that murdered her son! And Draco…oh, you poor boy…I don't know where you were when it happened, but you raced into the frame at the sound of the crash and positively exploded with energy – the shield was blinding, and no one but your mother could touch Sam for hours afterwards. It was almost as if you knew…" Narcissa buried her face in her hands, and Draco blinked rapidly to prevent the overflow of his own tears. He had no idea that his first display of magic was something so touching, and yet so horrible at the same time…

"Narcissa was beside herself with grief," the portrait said, her voice shaking. "She neither ate nor left her rooms in the days between Sam's death and his funeral – and not twenty-four hours after his burial, she didn't remember him at all! That was the day she began making plans to get Draco out of the manor, but she never again knew why – she believed the catalyst was Lucius' descent into madness at the hands of Bellatrix, but that was over a month later, just over a week before Draco left the manor for good." The occupants of the room fell into silence as they processed Narcissa's tale. Peter, their friend from Durmstrang, had told them stories of Squibs being murdered by their families, but they'd never heard of it happening to anyone at Hogwarts, and this particular instance hit far closer to home than they'd ever expected.

"Merlin, that's awful," Hermione murmured, her hand automatically reaching for Draco's. Draco grasped her hand like a lifeline, his whole body shaking as he struggled to process what he'd heard. Just a week prior, he hadn't even known he'd had a brother, and now to not only know so much about him, but to learn he'd been murdered by their own father…it was too much.

"If I didn't already have a reason to despise the Death Eaters and everything they stand for, I do now," he said, his tone venomous. He looked up and met Narcissa's shining eyes. "Thank you for telling me Sam's story. I will do everything – _everything_ to ensure that he didn't die in vain."

"Draco, be careful," she said softly. "He and his followers will stop at nothing to get what they want."

"I will see you again, Narcissa," Draco promised. "And it will be in a Death Eater-free world." He turned to his godfather. "How long do we have until the return Portkey activates?" he asked.

"It won't do so unless I activate it myself, so we have all the time you need," Snape replied. Draco nodded.

"I need to make things right."

And so they did. They combed every inch of the manor for signs of another child's presence, and they reversed the damage where they could. They restored the destroyed bedroom that Draco now knew to be Scorpius' to its former glory, and Draco found papers in the study safe that confirmed that he hadn't been appointed heir to the Malfoy fortune until after Scorpius' death. There was nothing they could do about the family tree tapestry without further research – they didn't know how the tapestry edited itself, and even Snape didn't know enough magic to ensure that it wouldn't reject their attempts to restore Scorpius' name – but they did have success with the family portrait. Hermione, it seemed, had read up on magical artwork after their discussion about portraits and the founders, and she recalled a tricky little spell that revealed if a painting had been altered. With that knowledge, they were able to carefully chip away at the added layer of paint between Lucius Malfoy and the chair, and after nearly an hour's worth of painstaking work, they finally unveiled the original portrait. The awkward gap that had puzzled Draco so was now occupied by a young boy of roughly five, dressed in the same dark robes as his father and younger brother, who sat on their mother's lap. Draco stared longingly at the boy's face – Scorpius' eyes were blue like their mother's while Draco's were grey, but aside from this small difference, they could have been twins. He couldn't help but wonder what Scorpius would've been like had he still been alive, and his heart ached for the brother he would never have the chance to know.

Their final stop was the Malfoy family crypt, a small marble building situated on the outskirts of the property. From his previous visit, Draco recalled a coffin near the entrance that had no nameplate or other form of identification, and he knew it had to be Scorpius'. He instinctually knew that the coffin was empty – he wasn't about to check, of course, but he knew that Lucius Malfoy would never have allowed a lowly Squib to remain buried in the Malfoy tomb – and he had no idea why the coffin remained, but he was glad it did. He might be thirteen years too late, but Draco was going to give Scorpius the respect he deserved. With a wave of his wand, he conjured a small golden plaque and carefully, painstakingly engraved it, taking care to keep the inscription as neat as possible. When he finished, he affixed it to the end of the coffin and bowed his head. Beside him, he felt Harry and Hermione reach for his hands, and he gladly accepted their touch, eternally grateful for their presence. After a lengthy silence, Draco nodded once and the trio left the crypt.

"Sleep well, Sam," Draco murmured as he shut and locked the door. In silence, the teenagers made their way back to the front gate, where Snape was waiting to return them to Hogwarts.

"Are you ready to go back?" Snape asked. Draco took a deep breath and looked back at the house, his eyes red-rimmed but dry.

"I'm ready."

As they grasped the Portkey and vanished into nothing, Draco recalled Narcissa's last words when he'd gone back to say goodbye to her properly:

 _"Hold tight to what you love, Draco my darling, and never let go. Your mother's love for you was the light in her darkness – let your love for Harry and Hermione be yours."_

And as they landed back at Hogwarts and hastily donned the invisibility cloak, Draco knew that she was right. His past was filled with blackness and hate, but the love and support in his present and future had the power to overcome that, and he would keep that light within him until the very end.

* * *

 **A/N: Writing this chapter was hard - I've had it planned for ages, but I definitely still teared up. Now we've solved the mystery of Malfoy Manor...(Phnxgirl, you finally got your answers! Haha thanks for being so patient, I hope it paid off. :))**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Your continued support is amazing.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Let's hope James Sirius Potter had a great first day at Hogwarts! Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	10. Beneath the Broken Sink

A somber mood hung over the guest quarters for several days after the trip to Wiltshire. Draco, of course, was still highly upset over the revelation of his deceased brother, and neither Harry nor Hermione quite knew what to say to sufficiently comfort him. They spent many long hours in silence as a result, the only sounds in their room the shuffling of parchment as they paged through books and took notes on what little new information they found. Though they'd gone through the rest of the Horcrux books Hermione had confiscated from Dumbledore's office, they hadn't found anything further on the subject of destroying Horcruxes, and so they decided instead to tackle potential locations – where could Voldemort have hidden the remaining objects?

"Of course, we still don't know _what_ we're looking for, either," Harry pointed out, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes in mild frustration. "The diary and the ring are gone, and the locket's accounted for, but where is the cup, and what else are we after?"

"Well, we're pretty sure it's nothing of Gryffindor's, yeah?" Draco said.

"Yeah. Bathilda Bagshot mentioned that his only known surviving artifacts are his sword and the Sorting Hat – she hadn't heard of anything else, not even the rings, and she's a world-renowned historian. The Sorting Hat has been around for…well, almost as long as Hogwarts itself, and we've seen – and used – the sword of Gryffindor before."

"So we know both of those are safe," Hermione concluded. "Have either of you come across anything else that belonged to Ravenclaw, anything at all?"

"Aside from the diadem you mentioned, no," Harry replied. "And you said that's reportedly been lost for centuries."

"Trust Riddle to be exceptionally difficult with regards to _everything,"_ Draco muttered, turning a page of his book with a little more force than was strictly necessary. Harry and Hermione exchanged worried looks but let it go, knowing that Draco had been through the ordeal of a lifetime and needed every chance he could get to blow off steam.

"I was thinking," Hermione said slowly after a lengthy silence. "About possible locations for the Horcruxes…"

"I still say Hogwarts is a good bet," Harry interrupted.

"Harry, we've been over this!" Hermione said, sounding frustrated. "When could he possibly have hidden a Horcrux here, and where?"

"I don't think he did it while he was a student," Harry replied insistently. "He came back a few years later to ask Dumbledore about the DADA job, remember? As for the 'where', the hell if I know – this place is huge; there have got to be thousands of potential hiding places. But I still say he could've hidden one here, and it makes sense – Hogwarts is one of the few places he valued, the one place he felt at home."

"Oh, would you two just shut up?" Draco snapped. "You've had this argument at least fifteen times in the last week, and it's getting ridiculous. Hermione, admit that Harry has a valid point; Harry, stop harping on it, and move on! Now, were you going to suggest something else, Lotte?"

"I…I was, actually," Hermione finally replied once she'd gotten over the shock of Draco's outburst. "I was thinking…well, what if…"

But Hermione was interrupted a second time, this time by a loud banging on their suite's inner door.

"Harry!" a familiar voice shouted. "Draco? Hermione? Please, anyone, open the door!" Hermione was closest and leapt to her feet at the sound of Ginny's terrified voice, and she ripped open the door to reveal the petite redhead, who was shaking madly and looked as though she'd run all the way from Gryffindor Tower.

"Ginny, what happened?" Hermione demanded, immediately grasping her friend's shoulders and forcing her to make eye contact. Hermione gasped when she saw Ginny's face up close – her eyes were red and puffy, and the flush in her cheeks definitely wasn't just from her effort to find them quickly. No, something was horribly wrong.

"The…the Burrow," Ginny choked out. She reached forward and grasped the front of Hermione's jumper almost desperately. "The Burrow – it's gone."

"What do you mean, it's gone?" Harry asked sharply as he and Draco moved to join the two witches by the door. Ginny swallowed heavily and took a deep breath.

"Death Eaters broke through the wards and attacked the Burrow," she said. "They burned it to the ground – there's nothing left."

"Oh, God," Harry breathed, looking horrified.

"What happened?" Hermione asked again as she pulled her friend into a fierce hug. "Is everyone ok?" Ginny's lower lip trembled.

"N-no," she said quietly. "They're not. Mum and Dad…they contacted the Order, but they couldn't get help in time. The Muggle-borns…they tried to get them all out, they really did, but three of them were still trapped in Ron's room when the house collapsed…and Dean and the others never made it to the rendezvous point. They're alive – Dean sent a message via the charmed coins – but he's the only of-age student in his group, and they weren't sure if the Ministry could trace unlicensed Apparition, so they're on the run."

"Merlin," Draco murmured. "And your parents?" Tears began to leak from Ginny's eyes now, though she tried to contain them.

"The Death Eaters…they didn't come alone," she whispered. "There was a snake – a giant snake. It…it attacked Dad."

"Oh, Ginny!" Hermione cried, hugging the redhead even tighter.

"He's in St. Mungo's," Ginny said, her voice hoarse. "The Healers are having trouble closing the wound…they think the bite was poisonous…I don't know if my dad's going to live!" Ginny could finally say no more and broke down into loud, choking sobs, the boys immediately moving in to hug her as well. For a long moment, the four friends remained motionless, clutching each other tightly as they all tried to process Ginny's horrible news.

"Ginny, I'm sure everything will be alright – the Healers at St. Mungo's are the best," Hermione murmured, though she sounded uncertain. Mr. Weasley was one of the best people she knew – he couldn't die, he just couldn't! Ginny looked up then, and the others almost jumped back at the unexpected fire in her eyes.

"We need to find the other Horcruxes," she said fiercely. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Gin…"

 _"No,_ Harry. Don't you dare give me some crap about how I need to calm down, think, or step back from the situation! Those bastards killed three innocent students, and my father's life hangs by a thread – do you really think I can just let that go?"

"No, we're not expecting you to," Hermione soothed. "We just don't want you to do anything rash. We're doing everything we can to finish this quickly – have you forgotten that Harry, Draco, and I have all lost parents to the Death Eaters? We want this to end just as much as you do!" Ginny visibly deflated at Hermione's words and sank against her shoulder.

"You're right," she sighed. "I'm just so worried."

"We all are, Gin," Harry said, reaching out to stroke her hair. "We're hoping for good news just as much as you are." They lapsed into silence once more.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Would I be allowed to?" Ginny replied with a slight frown. "The professors have been so strict about security ever since the Carrows arrived – rightly so, but…"

"I think Professor McGonagall will agree, just this once," Hermione said. "She's the one coming to check on us tonight, and she should be coming by very soon."

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall arrived not ten minutes later. At first, she was a little startled to see four teenagers instead of three, given how close it was to curfew, but her expression softened when she recalled the horrific message she'd had to relay to Molly Weasley's two youngest children. Harry, Hermione, and Draco were some of Ginny's closest friends, and so the Scottish witch wasn't surprised that Ginny had come here for comfort.

"Can she stay with us tonight, Professor?" Hermione implored. "She just told us what happened at the Burrow." Professor McGonagall looked hesitant for a moment, but she finally nodded.

"Yes, that will be fine," she said quietly. "I know I already told you this, Miss Weasley, but I truly am sorry for what you and your family went through today."

"It's not your fault, Professor," Ginny said softly.

"But I'm sorry all the same, my dear." Professor McGonagall reached out and squeezed Ginny's shoulder in comfort, then added, "I'm afraid I'll have to escort you back to Gryffindor Tower rather early – we can't afford for the Carrows to find out about this." By 'this', of course, she meant the fact that the three most wanted teenagers in Wizarding Britain were, in fact, hiding in plain sight.

"How early?" Ginny asked.

"Half six, at the latest." Ginny nodded.

"Just being allowed to stay here is enough," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"Of course. Goodnight." Professor McGonagall gently closed the door behind her, and it wasn't long before they heard her exiting the outer portrait.

"Come," Hermione said gently, carefully pulling Ginny towards the bedroom door. "You can borrow some of my pajamas, and I think I have an extra toothbrush as well." The foursome retreated to the bedroom, and Hermione waved her wand, pushing the two double beds together and melding them into one giant sleeping surface.

"We need this tonight," she said. Nobody objected, and they did as they had done so many times before and all crawled under the covers together – Ginny's worry about her family had quickly spread to the other three, and the close proximity was definitely comforting. Harry and Draco fell asleep with their arms wrapped around the girls' waists, while Ginny and Hermione clasped hands and held on as if they'd never let go. They were together, yes, but they hadn't had good news in so long, and the bad news just kept getting worse – was it ever going to end?

* * *

The following afternoon, Ginny returned to the guest suite right after classes let out for the day.

"Dad's stable," she said, blurting it out as if she'd been containing the news all day. "They're still having a bit of trouble getting the wound to stay closed, but he's definitely going to live."

"Ginny, that's wonderful," Hermione breathed. "Oh, I'm so glad." Harry and Draco expressed similar sentiments, and they all exchanged hugs.

"How's your mum?" Harry asked as Ginny joined him on the sofa. "Have they heard anything more from Dean?"

"Dean and the others are safe," Ginny reported. "McGonagall wouldn't say where they were just in case, but Tonks and Lupin tracked them down last night and took them to another safe house. Mum's alright, given the circumstances – I don't think she's left St. Mungo's since Dad was admitted, but it could be worse."

"Where are they going to go?" Harry asked quietly. It was a loaded question, to be sure – Molly and Arthur had put everything they had into painstakingly turning the Burrow into a loving home, and they certainly didn't have the money to rebuild anytime soon.

"I don't think they've decided yet," Ginny replied sorrowfully. "They certainly have their pick of safe houses – apparently nearly everyone in the Order has offered them room – but…well, the Burrow was _home._ "

"I know, Gin, I know," Harry said, pulling her close.

"What are Bill and Fleur going to do?" Hermione asked tentatively. The couple had chosen to marry on Christmas Day, and the ceremony was supposed to take place at the Weasley family home. That, of course, was now impossible, and Christmas was just around the corner.

"I don't know," Ginny admitted. "Mum's message said they definitely don't want to postpone or cancel the wedding if they have to, but I don't know where else they could get married on such short notice that would be safe. They'd already ruled out getting married in France anyway – the Order really can't afford to have so many people go away like that, even if it's only for a day – but now that Dad's been hurt, I think that concern has multiplied. McGonagall said she'd let me know when she hears from Mum again, but as far as I know, they haven't decided yet." There was a pause as the others processed this latest in a long series of snags.

"We have some news for you as well," Harry said then.

"Oh?" Ginny looked curious.

"Hermione thinks she knows where one of the Horcruxes is," Harry said.

"Well…it's just an idea, really," Hermione said. "But we can't rule out any possibility, no matter how unlikely it seems."

"So what's your idea?" Ginny asked. "Any idea is better than no idea, isn't it?"

"Very true," Hermione conceded with a slight chuckle. "Well, I was thinking…what if he hid one in the Riddle mansion? You know, his paternal grandparents' house?"

"But they were Muggles," Draco said with a frown. "Why would Riddle want to hide anything there?"

"Because he bested them there, obliterated the 'filthy' Muggle part of his family tree there," Hermione said. "Hiding a Horcrux there would solidify his superiority over them, I'd think."

"It's definitely not a bad idea," Harry admitted. "And we know where the house is – or where it used to be, anyway. Remember that memory of the Gaunts Dumbledore showed us? The Riddles lived in Little Hangleton."

"Great idea or not, we still haven't solved the problem of destroying the Horcruxes," Draco pointed out. "Finding them is all well and good, but we can't just keep collecting them without having a way to get rid of them."

"Also very true," Hermione said with a sigh, "but what are we supposed to do about that? We still have no idea how to get into the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Why don't you just ask Myrtle?" Ginny said. "The entrance is in her bathroom, after all, and she's nosier than even Lavender or Romilda – there's no way she wasn't paying attention at least once when the chamber was opened."

"That's…a very good idea," Harry said. "Why did none of us think of that before?"

"Probably because we tend to forget the obvious when we get too worked up about things like this," Draco pointed out.

"Rhetorical question, you git," Harry replied, reaching over and punching Draco's arm. Draco gave a yelp of indignant surprise and punched him right back.

"Boys," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes. "If you're done squabbling like a bunch of children…" Harry and Draco both had the decency to look sheepish, and the girls giggled.

"We'll go tonight," Harry decided. "No time like the present, yeah?"

"Bring broomsticks," Ginny advised. At Harry's questioning look, she added, "How else are you planning on getting out of the chamber?"

"We have to get in it, first," Harry reminded her. Ginny dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"I'm trying to be positive," she said. "Probably ridiculously so, but whatever. Let's just cross our fingers and hope that Myrtle can help."

* * *

Later that night, well after Snape had dropped by for their evening check-in, Harry, Draco, and Hermione quietly exited their suite, broomsticks, invisibility cloak, and the Marauder's map in hand. Under normal circumstances, the walk to Myrtle's bathroom wasn't far at all, but they had to travel almost excruciatingly slowly in order to keep themselves hidden. Finally, they reached the door that almost always held an 'Out of Order' sign, and after one last quick glance to ensure they really were alone, they stole inside and shut and locked the door.

"Who's there?" a voice hissed. The trio recognized the speaker as Moaning Myrtle and took off the cloak.

"Hello, Myrtle," Draco said conversationally. Myrtle's suspicious expression morphed into one of delight at the sight of the Slytherin – Draco had talked with her before, back in their second year, and he suspected very few, if any, other students had sought Myrtle out since then.

"Ooooh, hello!" she said, drifting down from her perch atop the window ledge to float in front of them. "What brings you here at this time of night? It's after curfew, you know."

"Not important," Draco said, brushing it off as such. "In fact, it's really important that no one knows we're here – can you keep that secret, Myrtle?"

"Why _are_ you here?" Myrtle asked again.

"We needed to talk to you, actually," Draco replied. "We were hoping you could help us." Myrtle raised her eyebrows.

"You think _I_ can help you?" she asked, looking like she didn't believe him at all.

"Of course – you helped us before, didn't you? We wouldn't have figured out the whole Chamber of Secrets business if it hadn't been for you. In fact, we have a few more questions about the chamber that we're hoping you can answer. Will you help us?" Myrtle looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I'll do my best," she said finally. "What do you want to know?"

"Where in this room exactly is the entrance, and how do you open it?" Harry asked. "I remember when I came through here last time that it was beneath a sink, and I think it was that one" – he pointed to the sink on the far end – "but we need to know for sure." Myrtle frowned.

"Why would you ever want to know that?" she asked.

"Can you help us?" Draco repeated, ignoring Myrtle's question. The answer was far too complicated, and he had neither the time nor the inclination to share it with someone who was prone to gossip.

"You're right about the sink," Myrtle said slowly, still looking a little suspicious. "As for how to open it, though, I don't really know – it's got a password of some sort, but it's definitely not in English."

"Parseltongue, I bet," Harry replied with a groan. "Is there any chance you remember the general…sound, Myrtle?"

"No," Myrtle scoffed, shaking her head vehemently. "You really expect me to remember _that?_ I…EEP!" The trio whirled around to see what had frightened her, and Draco gasped while Harry quickly clapped his hand over Hermione's mouth to stifle her shriek. They were no longer alone in the bathroom – the Bloody Baron was hovering just inside the door.

Their reactions were warranted, of course – while the Bloody Baron might have been a handsome man during his lifetime, in death, he was downright scary: his expression was haunted, his eyes were terrifyingly blank, and his robes were drenched in copious amounts of blood. Nobody was really sure how he'd come to be that way, and nobody had ever dared to ask. He hardly ever spoke, and most students, even those in Slytherin House, steered clear of his favorite haunts. Even Peeves listened to the Bloody Baron – and considering Peeves listened to absolutely _no one,_ that was definitely saying something.

For a long moment, nobody moved. How much had the Bloody Baron overheard? If he'd heard anything important, would he tell anyone? Probably not, considering that most everyone tended to move very quickly in the opposite direction whenever he approached, but that wasn't the point. Draco knew better than anyone that Slytherins were the masters of blackmail, and the Baron had been around for centuries – they definitely couldn't afford to have anyone holding something like their continued presence at Hogwarts over their heads.

The Baron remained silent for some time, merely regarding them with what could almost be described as a curious expression. Finally, however, he moved, gliding silently across the bathroom towards the wall of sinks. The three teenagers stood to the side and watched as the Baron appeared to crouch and examine the farthest sink, the one hiding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Just as Harry was about to call on his Gryffindor bravery and ask the Baron what exactly he was doing, the ghost spoke. Except it wasn't exactly a word – instead, he let loose a long, low hiss, and to the trio's astonishment, the sink slid away, revealing the hidden pipe.

"Go." The command was hoarse and low, as if its speaker wasn't used to using his voice. Knowing how little the Baron interacted with anyone, it was probably true.

"You…you speak Parseltongue?" Harry asked, momentarily forgetting the Baron's intimidation factor.

"I know enough." The Baron said nothing further, and they didn't pry. Whether he truly spoke Parseltongue or had just learned a few words – the Baron had been a student of Salazar Slytherin himself, of course, and the founders had been known to impart special wisdom on the students they most prized – he had just helped them immensely.

"Thank you," Draco said sincerely. "You've been a huge help, Baron." The Baron merely nodded, and without another word, he glided through the wall and out of sight. As soon as he was gone, Myrtle shuddered.

"I don't like him – he's creepy," she said.

"He's _helpful,_ is what he is," Draco countered. "Now, can we count on you to keep quiet like we can him?" For indeed, Draco felt no need to find the Baron again to swear him to secrecy – he couldn't explain why, but he knew instinctively that the Baron wouldn't tell.

"I won't say anything," Myrtle promised.

"Good. Now, let's go find some fangs." Draco sat himself in the pipe and scooted forwards until gravity and momentum took him downwards and out of sight, and Harry and Hermione quickly followed.

The trio hurried through the tunnels to the main chamber as quickly as they could – Hermione was completely grossed out by the numerous animal skeletons littering the passageways, and neither Harry nor Draco had any desire to linger any longer than was necessary. The snakeskin Harry and Ginny had crawled over four and a half years prior was still there, and they found the massive carcass of the basilisk at the far end of the chamber, right where Ginny had killed it.

"Now what?" Harry asked as they stared at the dead serpent's gaping mouth. There were plenty of fangs, to be sure, but they were extremely sharp, and he had no desire to touch them if he didn't have to.

"Severing Charm?" Draco suggested. Harry shrugged.

"Can't hurt to try," he said. They drew their wands and pointed them at the basilisk, each taking turns sawing off the teeth and levitating them into a specially reinforced bag Hermione had brought along. They continued until they had almost a dozen fangs, wanting to be certain that they had extras in case one was destroyed or didn't have any venom within.

"You're sure these are still venomous?" Harry asked as Hermione carefully pocketed the bag.

"They should be," Hermione acknowledged. "Basilisk venom is potent enough that it doesn't dry up right away when the animal dies, and that thing was almost a thousand years old…anyway, let's talk about that later, yeah? This place is creepy." Neither of the boys had any objection to leaving, and so they hurried from the chamber and back through the tunnels without another word. When they reached the slide, they retrieved their brooms from where they'd stashed them in a little alcove nearby and flew back up into the bathroom, bid Myrtle goodnight, and went back to their suite as quickly as the invisibility cloak would allow. Hermione set the bag containing the fangs aside for safekeeping, and the trio, having exhausted their adventure quota for the day and then some, finally crawled into bed for some much-needed sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: I am _floored_ by the response to the last chapter - I don't think I've ever gotten so many reviews on a single chapter before! Thank you all, so very much. :)**

 **This chapter is a prime example of ideas that come up unexpectedly - what did you all think of the Bloody Baron's appearance?**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Hope you're all enjoying the story still - next chapter is another scene I've been wanting to write for a long time, I'm really looking forward to it!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	11. The Reality that is Hogwarts

Harry, Hermione, and Draco couldn't make heads or tails of the Bloody Baron's sudden appearance – and subsequent role – in their Chamber of Secrets adventure. The ghost was normally so reclusive, so solitary…not to mention he was the resident ghost of _Slytherin,_ a house that had prized pureblooded ancestry for centuries. Even if the Baron couldn't tell the students apart by blood, Harry and Hermione were Gryffindors, and very well-known ones at that. So why had he helped them?

"Maybe the ghosts' loyalties lie with Hogwarts beyond anything else," Draco suggested as he prodded his rook forwards to attack Harry's knight. The two pieces grappled, horse and rider putting up a good fight but ultimately losing, and the rook moved up to take command of the now vacant square. It had been three days since their excursion to the chamber, and they were passing time in one of the best ways they knew how: speculating, along with a side of wizard's chess.

"Dunno," Harry replied, leaning forward a bit and frowning as he studied the board more closely. He wasn't the greatest chess player, and it showed – as usual, he'd scattered his forces too widely too early on, and now he found himself in a position where he'd almost certainly be sacrificing crucial pieces no matter what he did next. "Damn. Well…" He ordered his bishop to move three squares. "Not that that does me any good. Anyway, we've been over this already, Drake. I have just as much understanding of the Baron's actions as you do – that is, none. Obviously we didn't mention why we needed to get into the chamber, or what we planned to do with it, so we can't even say he wanted to help us destroy the Horcruxes, because he doesn't _know_ we're destroying Horcruxes…"

"You're rambling, Harry dearest," a female voice sing-songed. The boys looked up to see Hermione standing in the bathroom doorway, fresh from her evening shower in plaid pajama pants and an old dental school t-shirt of her father's, a towel in one hand and an amused look on her face.

"Sorry, Maya," Harry said sheepishly. Hermione chuckled and flipped her head upside-down so she could towel dry her hair, then stood upright once more and began running a comb through the knots.

"It's alright – we're used to it by now," she said with a slight smirk. She winced a little as the comb hit a particularly tangled section, then added, "I'm just as curious as you are, but unless we actually go find the Baron and talk to him, I don't think we're getting answers anytime soon. Let's just be grateful that we had the help, and leave it at that." Abandoning the comb in favor of her toothbrush, Hermione glanced over at the chessboard and said, "And you might want to move your bishop – Draco's about to put you in check."

"Hey!" Draco protested as Harry thanked her and made the suggested move. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Just trying to even the odds," Hermione said with a wink. "It can't possibly be fun for you to win all the time, can it?" She blew him a kiss, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth.

"She secretly likes me better," Harry said smugly. Draco snorted and chucked an empty sweets wrapper at his brother.

"I'll let you think that," he replied. "But I don't think she liked you better last night when she…"

"Don't need to know," Harry cut him off, jumping up to answer the door. As he'd known from the very specific knock, their visitor was Ginny.

"Hey," Harry said quietly, pulling the redhead close to touch his lips to hers.

"Pot, kettle," he heard Draco mutter. The next second, Draco was throwing himself sideways off the couch to avoid the jinx Harry shot his way.

"That'll teach you to be cheeky," Harry said, Ginny sniggering beside him. Hermione poked her head out of the bathroom once more.

"Wha's goin' on?" she managed around a mouthful of toothpaste. She ducked out of sight, and they heard the sound of running water as she rinsed out her mouth. When she reemerged, the toothbrush was gone and she could speak properly.

"Sorry about that," she said conversationally. "What's up, Gin?"

"Hi, Herms." Ginny took advantage of Draco's still being on the floor to take over the couch. She sighed, ran her fingers through her hair, and said, "I've just come from the worst DA meeting ever."

"How so?" Harry asked, retaking his seat on the opposite side of the chessboard. Draco got up off the floor and took the other armchair, and Hermione finished up her post-shower routine to come join Ginny on the other half of the couch.

"Well, our numbers are still dropping," Ginny began. "Terry Boot's still in the hospital wing after what happened the other day – Madam Pomfrey's out of Skele-Gro, so he's had to heal the long way – and after what they did to Michael Corner last night, all of the other Ravenclaws besides Luna were too afraid to come…"

"Hang on," Harry cut her off. "Gin, what are you talking about? What happened to Terry and Michael?" Ginny's face affected a look of confusion.

"Terry got beat up during dinner the other night, and Michael was tortured during detention?" she said as if it were obvious.

 _"What?"_ Harry stared at her in shock. "Ginny, start from the beginning, and don't you dare leave anything out."

"I…what are you talking about?" Ginny still looked like she couldn't believe what Harry was saying. "You know what's going on around here…don't you?"

"You've never mentioned torture, Gin," Draco replied with a shake of his head.

"Shite…is this another one of those 'I thought I told you but I really didn't' instances?"

"I think so," Harry said darkly. Ginny swallowed heavily and nodded.

"Right. Well, the Carrows – you know, the Death Eater teachers – they…they like punishment. They're not above hexing students who do something they don't approve of, and of course they've been making us use the Cruciatus on each other in detentions…"

 _"WHAT?"_

"Harry, calm down! I…dammit, I really thought I'd told you, I'm sorry! Yes, the Carrows are making students use the Cruciatus on other students who've got detention."

"But that's an Unforgivable!" Hermione protested.

"Do you think that matters to them?" Ginny retorted. "Riddle controls the Ministry, and Azkaban! He doesn't give a damn about 'breaking the rules', because he's _making_ the rules! The Minister himself is only a puppet under the Imperius!"

"But Snape…"

"Can only do so much without giving himself away! He can stop us from getting outright killed, but aside from that, his hands are tied! What do you think Riddle would say if his supposedly loyal headmaster suddenly started protesting his tactics? It just isn't done!" Ginny had risen halfway to her feet at some point during her tirade, and now that she had finished speaking, she slowly sank back into a sitting position with a groan.

"I never said I agreed with what they were doing," she said tiredly as she leaned back into the cushions. "Filch is the happiest I've ever seen him because he's been allowed to bring back his old torture devices – that's what happened to Michael; they'd actually chained up a first-year, and Michael was trying to free him…" Hermione gasped and looked like she was going to be sick.

"This has to stop," she whispered. "That's…that's inhumane."

"But what can we do about it?" Draco protested. "We" – he gestured to Hermione, Harry, and himself – "aren't even supposed to be here, and Ginny's not only underage, but a prime target due to her family's status within the Order as well as her own as a leader of the DA. If she tries anything, she'll be tortured for sure!"

"I've been lucky so far," Ginny said, "and we've had some unexpected – at least to the Carrows – help. Blaise, Tracey, Daphne – they've been volunteering to help supervise the detentions, and while the Carrows think they're throwing hexes, they're actually using pain-relieving spells. I can think of at least five or six people who probably owe their lives to those three."

"I'm glad that they're doing all they can to help," Draco said, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in his chest at the mention of his Slytherin friends, "but the point is that _kids_ are still being subjected to this, and being pushed to the limit from the sounds of it."

"They don't want to spill too much blood if they can help it," Ginny said. "After all, even if we're being difficult, a lot of us still come from powerful magical families, so they can't afford to kill us. Why spill more of that precious 'pure' blood than you have to?" she scoffed. "But you're right – after seeing what Michael went through…" She shuddered, and Hermione scooted closer to wrap a comforting arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

"What are we going to do?" Harry asked. A second knock sounded before anyone could answer, and Harry got up to admit their visitor.

"You need to do something to stop this torture, Professor," Hermione said as soon as she saw who their visitor was. Snape looked at her sharply.

"Do you think I have not already done so, Miss Granger?" he asked. "Who do you think taught Mr. Zabini, Miss Davis, and Miss Greengrass the protection spells they use during detentions? Who do you think spends all of his spare time brewing as many healing potions as he can so that Madam Pomfrey's stores always remain as full as possible? I do not like the situation any more than you do, but anything more than that will result in disaster – you know that as well as I."

"Yes, sir." Hermione's voice was quiet. She knew Snape was right. It was just as Ginny had said earlier – Snape's position was far more precarious than anyone else's, which severely limited his possible courses of action.

"I will do all that I can to ensure that no one is seriously injured, but I cannot watch out for everyone at every moment," Snape reminded them. "I do not condone what happened to Mr. Corner, and I made sure that he made it to the hospital wing as soon as I could do so without arousing suspicion." He paused to make sure that all four of the teenagers understood what he was saying. "I did not come up here to discuss what is happening with the Carrows. I came to tell you your plans for the Christmas holidays."

"Sir?" Draco questioned.

"As you undoubtedly know, there is to be a wedding over the holiday." The disgusted tone Snape employed left little doubt as to what he thought of such a thing. "I am here to inform you that the four of you will be staying here at Hogwarts over the holiday."

"I have to miss my own brother's wedding?" Ginny protested.

"What about the Carrows?"

"We're stuck here for Christmas?"

"Why are we staying at Hogwarts?"

"If you would let me finish!" Snape said impatiently. The four friends fell silent.

"You are to stay at Hogwarts because the wedding is taking place at Hogwarts. The Carrows" – Snape paused and held up a hand with a warning look, because the others had all made noises of protest and looked ready to argue with him – "will not be present. They have been flaunting their 'Christmas assignment' for weeks and will be gone through the New Year – given my place within the ranks, I have been able to confirm said assignment with the Dark Lord. Furthermore, staying at Hogwarts is not an option this term – Minerva McGonagall suggested such a measure before we knew of the Carrows' departure, and we have decided to put it into effect regardless of the situation."

"So that way, if the Carrows do come back earlier than expected, there won't be anyone here they can hurt," Harry concluded.

"Precisely."

"But how does that make Hogwarts a safe place to hold the wedding?" Ginny asked.

"It doesn't, not really," Hermione admitted. "But it's the _safest_ option, isn't it? I…well, the Burrow had some of the best protection the Order could give it, and look what happened there. Short of having the wedding at headquarters, which we can't do if we don't want to compromise the location, where else could we go?"

"She has a point," Draco acknowledged. "You can't get much better than the Hogwarts wards."

"The Hogwarts wards haven't stopped the Death Eaters before now," Harry pointed out.

"No…but it's the best we can hope for."

"It is also, as you know, the safest place for you three," Snape said. "International travel by magical means is impossible, given how closely the Ministry is watching such things, and even travelling the Muggle way has too many risks that the Order isn't willing to take. Those who know you are here agree that it is best if you stay here, and those who don't will be made to believe that you've been brought to the castle from the 'safe house' Minerva took you to during the evacuation." Harry sighed.

"I still don't like it," he said. "So many things have the potential to go wrong…but unfortunately, you're right. There are no better options."

"Well, my brother could've postponed his wedding until after the war," Ginny said.

"I think he and Fleur want to make sure there actually is a wedding," Hermione said softly. The thought was morbid, but she was right – this was a war, and anyone could die at any time.

"There is one more thing before I go," Snape said. He reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a familiar small box, a phoenix in flight carved onto the lid.

"This now belongs to you," he said as he passed the box to Draco. "Had I known it was yours by decree of the will, I would have brought it to you sooner."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said, accepting the little box and holding it as if it were made of glass. The box itself wasn't necessarily important, but it contained the founders' rings, which, if the prophecy was to be believed, were critical to the outcome of the war.

"I must leave you now," Snape said. "Miss Weasley, keep an eye on the clock."

"Yes, sir." Snape nodded stiffly and left the room.

"I'd almost forgotten about these," Draco said, holding up the little box for emphasis. "We've been so focused on the Horcrux hunt…"

"Should we redo the promise ceremony?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Not now," she said. "I need to look into how to do it – I remember the basic structure from the first time we tried it, but I don't know if there are specific wand movements or anything like that that we need to know."

"And I don't know about you, but I'd like to do it somewhere other than in the room we've been confined to for over a month," Draco added.

"That sounds fair," Ginny agreed. "If you wait 'til the Christmas hols, you can do it wherever you'd like."

"Well, we'll just have to think of a good spot, then," Draco said firmly. The others chuckled, and the conversation continued in this lighthearted manner until Ginny had to head off to bed.

* * *

 **A/N: So I miscalculated a bit - the scene I was looking forward to is in the _next_ chapter, not this one...but that one's going up tonight too, as soon as I edit it, so yay! Wrote just shy of 7000 words between the two chapters, so I hope you guys enjoy. This is also the first chapter courtesy of my new laptop! Huzzah.**

 **Thanks as always for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! You guys are the best.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	12. Promises

It was difficult – not to mention deadly dull – keeping track of passing time when the trio rarely left the safe haven of their guest suite, but finally, the Christmas holidays arrived. Professors Snape and McGonagall had the trio wait an extra two days before venturing out just to be safe, but finally, they were given permission to leave their rooms, an announcement that they accepted enthusiastically. They still used the invisibility cloak whenever they were anywhere near the portrait guarding their suite, however – Hogwarts had been kind to them so far, but they couldn't guarantee that a chatty portrait or ghost wouldn't accidentally let slip the secret of their location to someone who shouldn't know. In spite of the nuisance that was sneaking around under the cloak, Harry, Draco, and Hermione relished in their newfound freedom, however brief they knew it would be. They visited Dobby in the kitchens – Dobby, of course, already knew they were there, having been assigned to the trio's care the moment they went into 'hiding', but he was still thrilled to see them and immediately brought forth a tray of Christmas cookies and three steaming mugs of his special hot chocolate. True to Professor McGonagall's word, the castle was otherwise empty. Aside from those directly involved with the Order, even most of the professors had gone home, and even though the teenagers were thrilled to be able to roam the castle and grounds at their leisure, they couldn't deny that the lack of activity made Hogwarts seem very forlorn indeed. The castle just wasn't meant to be so quiet.

It was to their great relief, then, when people started arriving for the wedding. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, of course, arrived first, with Ron and Ginny in tow, and Bill and Fleur followed later that evening, having agreed to wait for Charlie and Fleur's guests. International travel to and from Britain was being very closely watched by the Ministry, and the soon-to-be-married couple had to jump through all sorts of hoops to make sure that their friends and family arrived quickly and safely. Fred and George wouldn't be around until Christmas Eve day – Bill and Fleur were able to get away from work, as the goblins were more than capable of protecting Gringotts from any potential threats, but the twins couldn't close their shop in Diagon Alley too early without arousing suspicion. Finally, those who weren't family, Order members, or part of the wedding party would arrive via specially arranged Floo on Christmas Day and would take the thestral-drawn carriages from Hogsmeade up to the castle for the festivities. The increased security meant that the guest list was far smaller than it would have been under normal circumstances, but neither Bill nor Fleur minded – everyone they truly wanted there would be able to be with them on their special day, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

"Thank Merlin you three are here," Ginny muttered as she dropped into an empty seat in the Great Hall for lunch and helped herself to a turkey sandwich.

"It's not like we ever left, Gin," Draco said back, careful to check that no one else was within earshot before speaking. As far as everyone else was concerned, Professor McGonagall had brought him, Harry, and Hermione to Hogwarts from their 'safe house' the day before the Weasleys' arrival, and they couldn't afford for anyone to find out otherwise.

"That's not the point," Ginny said around mouthfuls of turkey. She swallowed heavily. "Sorry, that was rude. Anyway, the wedding's only two days away now, and Mum's going absolutely spare. She won't know if Fred and George's suits fit until they arrive tomorrow – never mind that they're taking care of their own clothes; she still wants to make sure, just for the sake of knowing – she's still mortified by the fact that she can't offer the guests anything better than Hogwarts dormitories, and she can't figure out how to polish that tiara that Fleur's wearing. I swear, if I have to charm one more centerpiece, I'm going to scream."

"The centerpieces are done, Gin," Hermione said as she topped off her pumpkin juice. "Gabrielle and I finished them this morning. You should be more worried about our dress fittings."

"Oh, send me to hell on a hippogriff," Ginny groaned, leaning forward so that her forehead rested on the table. "Don't make me do it," she said, her voice slightly muffled thanks to her current position. Harry chuckled.

"If it makes you feel any better, love, we have to have our fitting too," he said, poking her sides and making her jump.

"Yeah, but you're not _in_ the wedding," Ginny huffed. _"We_ are." It was true – Fleur had asked both Ginny and Hermione to be bridesmaids shortly after she and Bill had set the date. Hermione had protested at first – surely, there was someone more suited to the honor – but Fleur had insisted, saying that Hermione had been willing to accept her as a dueling partner, confidante, and eventual friend in spite of Fleur's somewhat unapproachable demeanor when she'd first arrived at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister, was obviously a bridesmaid as well, and Fleur's maid of honor was a young woman named Sandrine, who was her oldest friend. The groom's side was all Weasleys, with Charlie as best man and Fred, George, and Ron as groomsmen.

"It was sweet of Fleur to ask and everything, but I'd really rather not be stuck with pins all afternoon, and you _know_ that will happen with the state Mum's in."

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you Madame Delacour was supervising the fittings?" Hermione asked. Ginny's head shot up in time to catch Hermione's amused smile.

"Really?" she asked. "Please say you're not joking."

"I'm not," Hermione promised. "Your mum's spending this afternoon in the kitchens with the house-elves who are helping tomorrow, making sure everything's ready for the wedding feast."

"Hermione, you're my new best friend," Ginny said, letting out a long sigh of relief. Hermione laughed.

"Wasn't I already your best friend?" she asked with a wink.

"Details," Ginny said dismissively. "You just saved me from a fate worse than death." Draco snorted.

"I doubt a dress fitting would be a fate worse than death, Gin," he said dryly. Ginny reached over the table and whacked him across the head with her napkin.

"It is when Hurricane Mum is involved," she said, "and I'm sure there's plenty of undesirable things for you two to do this afternoon as well, so drop the sass, Black." Harry and Hermione burst out laughing at Ginny's deliberate use of Draco's surname, while Draco himself merely gaped at the redhead.

"I can't believe I just got my arse handed to me by a Gryffindor," he muttered, causing Harry and Hermione to laugh even harder.

"You bet you did," Ginny replied, mockingly blowing him a kiss. "Haven't you learned by now that I will _always_ best you in these sorts of things?"

"One day," he said to himself. "One day." He slowly shook his head. Then he added, "Need I remind you that your dear brothers are arriving tomorrow? I daresay we could find some sort of suitable retribution."

"You wouldn't dare!" Ginny gasped.

"Oh, I most certainly would," Draco said with a wink, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Slytherin, my dear – we do whatever it takes to win…and I'm sure the twins have been missing the chance to go after their favorite sister, don't you think? I'm only doing them a favor by helping."

"Harry, help me!" Ginny groaned. "Are you really going to let him get away with this?"

"Hmm…" Harry pretended to consider the matter for a long moment, then said, "You know, I think I might." He tossed her his own wink, and she gulped.

"That dress fitting isn't sounding so bad after all," she said, hastily finishing the remnants of her lunch. "Almost ready to go, Herms?" Hermione chuckled.

"I am," she said, rising from the bench as her empty plate disappeared. "But before we go, I think we should be considerate and remind these two just who it is they're thinking of pranking." She twirled her wand suggestively between her fingers and smirked, snickering to herself as the boys visibly gulped. "Who really holds the aces here, hmm? Might want to remember that, boys." She and Ginny then linked arms and sashayed out of the Great Hall together, giggling madly the whole way.

"You know," Harry said as he watched them go, "I'm really glad those two are on our side."

"Why's that?" Draco asked. Harry laughed.

"Maya and Ginny? Do you really have to ask that question? They're bloody scary sometimes."

It was Draco's turn to laugh – his brother definitely had that one right.

* * *

Nobody was really quite sure how, but they somehow made it to Christmas Day unscathed. After many long hours of hard work, everything was finally finished, and though they were exhausted, everyone was more than ready for a good party. They were up with the sun on Christmas morning, and after a delicious breakfast courtesy of the house-elves who weren't in charge of the wedding feast, Madame Delacour whisked the girls off to Professor McGonagall's suite, which the Scottish witch had offered as a dressing room space for the bridal party. The wedding itself would take place that afternoon, but Madame Delacour had a bit of a surprise for them – sumptuous bubble baths, complete with special charms that felt like the world's best massage. The girls squealed with delight and thanked Madame Delacour profusely before sinking into the tubs and enjoying the rare treat – even the prefects' bathroom, which was known for its luxurious, swimming pool-sized bath, couldn't compete with this. The girls chatted and relaxed until their fingers and toes pruned and the water finally lost its appeal, and they wrapped themselves in impossibly fluffy bathrobes embroidered with their initials before sitting down to a light lunch. Once they'd eaten enough to tide themselves over until the wedding feast, they set to tackling hair and makeup.

"How long have you known Fleur, Sandrine?" Hermione asked as she lightly applied mascara. Sandrine smiled from her seat beside her.

"Seense we were very small," she replied. "We grew up very close to each uzzer, and although we were not ze same age, we were ze best of friends." Sandrine was two years Fleur's senior and was absolutely stunning, with deep brown eyes and dark hair that fell effortlessly halfway down her back. Yvette, Sandrine's three-year-old daughter, was a carbon copy of her mother and had already charmed all of the guests she hadn't already known – as Yvette wasn't in the wedding party, she was spending the morning with her father, Sandrine's husband Julien, but Hermione and Ginny had played with the child enough to know that she was an absolute sweetheart. Hermione smiled in turn as she thought of the little girl, and talk then turned to their favorite memories from school – Sandrine was especially interested in Hermione's tales of the Triwizard Tournament, which she'd missed as she'd already left Beauxbatons by that time.

Finally, everything was in place, and the bridal party was ready to go. Fleur had chosen strapless, knee-length dresses in a shade of icy blue that complemented all of their colorings, and they accessorized with simple jewelry and strappy silver shoes. The four girls exclaimed happily over the final look as they admired themselves in the full-length mirrors before gasping in shock as the door to the back room opened, revealing Fleur and her mother. Fleur's dress was elegant in its simplicity, and her natural beauty was even more pronounced due to the happy light shining in her blue eyes. A delicate goblin-made tiara, on loan from the Weasleys' great-aunt Muriel, sat atop her silvery hair, which was pulled back just enough to show her face, the rest trailing loosely down her back.

"Oh, Fleur," Sandrine breathed. "You look so beautiful, _mon amie."_ The two friends moved closer and embraced, murmuring to one another in French as they fought to keep their tears at bay. Ginny, Hermione, and Gabrielle each hugged Fleur in turn before a knock sounded on the suite door. It was Fleur's father, arrived to guide her downstairs. He kissed his daughter on both cheeks and offered her his arm, his wife moving to his other side, and gestured for the bridesmaids to exit first. They were to meet the groomsmen in the entrance hall, while Fleur and her father would wait until the hall was empty before making their appearance.

Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron were waiting in the entrance hall – neither Fleur nor Bill were keen on full Wizarding formalwear, and so the Weasley men wore dark suits, flowers matching the girls' dresses pinned neatly onto the jackets. One of the twins wolf-whistled as they approached, and the wedding party prepared for the processional, Charlie and Sandrine in the lead. The ceremony itself was taking place under a charmed area down by the lake, and the group made its way in that direction when they heard the musical cue. The guests 'oohed' appreciatively as they passed, Harry and Draco grinning from the front row beside Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, and several other Order members, as well as Madame Delacour, who'd somehow managed to make it to her seat before the wedding party arrived. One by one, the couples reached Bill and Kingsley, who was officiating once more, and took their places.

The music swelled, the audience standing on cue, and Fleur appeared on her father's arm. She positively glided down the aisle, her happiness spreading to all who'd come to share this day with her and dimming even the bright snow by comparison. All eyes were on the lovely French girl as she moved slowly but confidently towards Bill, who appeared to have been stunned speechless. When she finally reached the front, Fleur kissed her father and handed her bouquet to Sandrine before facing Bill and taking his hands in her own.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Kingsley's deep voice rose over the small but attentive crowd. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of William Arthur Weasley and Fleur Isabelle Delacour..."

Just as Tonks and Lupin had done, Bill and Fleur had chosen to write their own vows, and there wasn't a dry eye in the vicinity by the time the couple had finished speaking. Kingsley smiled as their magic bonded in a beautiful light of pure gold and motioned for Charlie to hand him the rings. Bill and Fleur slipped the bands on each other's fingers, repeating promises of love as they did so.

"This morning, they were two souls – now, through the strongest magic of them all, they are one." Kingsley smiled again. "Bill, you may kiss your bride."

"Gladly," Bill replied with a wink, and he pulled Fleur close and ducked his head to do just that. The guests cheered and clapped as the couple celebrated their newly married status, sharing several more kisses after that first passionate embrace, and Fred and George raised their wands, sending streamers and little birds soaring over the wedding party, who exclaimed in delight. Bill and Fleur intertwined their fingers and led the way back to Hogwarts, where the reception would soon take place in the Great Hall.

Just like the night of the Yule Ball three years before, the Great Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland befitting the Christmas wedding, with everlasting icicles and ice sculptures accented by draperies in shades of silver and blue. Small circular tables covered in fine china surrounded a polished wooden dance floor, the latter promising an evening of fun when the meal had ended. The guests enjoyed a sumptuous feast courtesy of the Hogwarts house-elves, as well as the most decadent wedding cake any of them had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Once they'd stuffed themselves to the brink, they sat back and watched as Bill and Fleur took to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Charlie soon offered his hand to Sandrine, and the rest of the wedding party followed – Fred with Hermione, George with Ginny, and Ron with Gabrielle, the last pairing looking adorably awkward as Ron was over six feet tall while Gabrielle was still a tiny preteen. The elder Weasleys and Delacours joined their children, and the dance floor was soon filled with people, all of them eager to share in their friends' happiness.

"They look so happy, don't they?" Harry and Draco, who'd sat out the first dance since both of their girls were in the wedding party, looked up from their drinks to see the very girls they'd been waiting for. It was Ginny who'd spoken, her eyes shining as they followed her brother and new sister-in-law around the room.

"They do," Harry agreed, unable to keep himself from smiling as well. They were still in the middle of a war and had a long way to go, but just for this one night, they could forget all of that and celebrate, and Harry hadn't realized until the wedding started just how much they all needed that little break. "And you, my dear, look lovely. Shall we?" He offered Ginny his hand, and the two quickly disappeared amongst the sea of dancers.

"You look absolutely beautiful." Hermione felt the faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

"You don't look so bad yourself – but it's Fleur who's supposed to be the beautiful one today," she pointed out. Draco stopped her fidgeting hands and forced her to meet his gaze.

"Don't discredit yourself, Lotte," he murmured. "Come dance with me?" Hermione smiled softly and nodded, taking Draco's hand in her own and allowing him to lead her onto the floor, where he pulled her close as they swayed to the music.

It was many long hours later that the party finally wound down, the last guests retiring to bed as the Weasleys and Delacours bid them farewell. Wanting to give the newlyweds some time alone with their families, Harry, Draco, and Hermione stepped forward and offered their congratulations once more.

"I'm so happy for you," Hermione whispered as she hugged Fleur. Fleur pulled back and smiled knowingly.

"Thank you for everyzing, 'Ermione," she replied. "And I know zat zis will be you one day, _non?"_ Hermione blushed but nodded.

"Hopefully, someday," she said. Fleur nodded and embraced her once more, then let the younger witch go so she could give her regards to Bill. Once they'd all said goodnight, the trio slowly climbed the stairs back to their hidden quarters.

"I don't know that I'm quite ready for bed – I'm so tired, but so full of energy at the same time," Hermione sighed. Harry and Draco admitted to feeling somewhat similar.

"What should we do, then?" Harry asked. "I'd say we go for a walk, but those charms don't cover the entire grounds." Those in charge of setting up the ceremony area had cast charms ensuring that the ground stayed warm and dry while keeping the snow intact – that way, nobody would ruin their nice clothes or shoes. However, the charms had only been cast on that part of the lawn, not the rest of the grounds.

"No, they don't." Hermione paused and tilted her head as if in thought. "I think we should try the ring ceremony again," she said after a moment.

"Now?" Harry asked.

"Yes." She smiled softly. "We have to do it at some point anyway, and what better time to do so than on a night so full of happiness and love?" Neither of the boys could fault her thinking, and they hurried to their suite to retrieve the box.

"Where should we do it?" Draco asked as he picked up the box and its accompanying key. He slid the key into a slot near the base and the box clicked open. Now that he'd unlocked it, the slot disappeared, the key no longer necessary – the box would respond to his touch, just as it had done for Dumbledore before him.

"The Astronomy tower." At Draco's questioning glance, Hermione elaborated, "Of course, out on the grounds would be lovely, but we can't go out in the snow in our nice clothes. Besides, the view is beautiful from up there, is it not?" Again, neither Harry nor Draco could disagree with her, both remembering the stunning backdrop of stars they'd studied in many a late-night lesson. They pocketed what they'd need, donned their cloaks just in case, and were soon on their way.

The night was clear with very little moon, and the stars were out in full force. It was very cold, but a few warming charms soon fixed that, and the trio shed their cloaks and stood at the tower's edge, gazing out across the glittering snow to the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch, the lake, and everything in between.

"It's such a perfect night," Hermione sighed softly. "A perfect end to a perfect day." On either side of her, Harry and Draco nodded, neither wanting to ruin the tableau by speaking further. Finally, however, Harry said, "Shall we?" Hermione waved her wand and conjured a softly glowing orb so that they could see what they were doing, and she and Draco clasped hands.

"Let the promise be spoken," Harry said, reading from the sheet of parchment on which they'd outlined the ceremony. As expected, a ribbon of purple light left his wand and twisted itself around the couple's hands. "Hermione?"

"One love, one lifetime," she said, quoting the music she'd first shared with Draco on a summer day so many years before. Draco smiled softly.

"It always has been, and it always will be," he replied. "Always forgiven."

"Always forgiven," Hermione murmured in agreement. The golden light joined the purple, and Harry spoke the final words.

"Let the promise ring true forevermore." He opened his hand and offered the contents to Draco, who picked up the Slytherin ring. This time, there were no protests – the ring slid right into place and transitioned smoothly from its plastic-like disguise to its true form, a shining platinum band split by one of emerald. Harry then offered his hand to Hermione, who repeated the process with the Gryffindor ring. Within seconds, Draco's finger bore a band of ruby and gold.

"I think it worked," Harry said quietly, his face breaking into a grin. The rings sparkled faintly in the dim light as if agreeing with Harry's words. He looked up at Draco and Hermione.

"Might want to seal the deal for good luck, you know?" he said with a wink. Draco laughed.

"Gladly," he replied, echoing Bill's response from the wedding ceremony. He then closed what little gap there was between himself and Hermione and kissed her softly.

"We should probably put these back in the box for now," Hermione murmured when they broke apart. Draco nodded, and the two removed their rings – now that they'd successfully performed the spell, the rings would activate without further prompting the next time they wore them. Draco carefully nestled the rings beside their fellows and closed the box before putting it in his pocket for safekeeping.

The trio remained atop the Astronomy tower for a little while longer, none of them eager to end what had been such a wonderful day. After a few moments, Harry wandered to the other side of the tower to give the other two some privacy and looked up at the stars, seeing how many constellations he could name after having not taken the class since fifth year. Behind him, Draco and Hermione seemed to be talking quietly, and though he couldn't make out most of what they were saying, he didn't try to eavesdrop, having a feeling that the conversation was private. He only caught one phrase, in his brother's voice: "It's yours, Lotte – it's always been yours." Having missed most of the exchange, Harry was in the dark as to what Draco meant. He then heard quiet sniffling as if someone was crying, but when he turned around a few moments later, they were both smiling slightly, though Hermione's eyes did look a little wet.

"I think it's time we went to bed," she whispered. She extinguished their orb, and after making sure they hadn't left anything behind, the trio returned to their quarters.

* * *

It wasn't until the next morning when they were lounging around in their sitting room after breakfast that Harry discovered just what had happened on the Astronomy tower the night before. Only because he was so used to seeing it did Harry notice the difference – Draco's necklace was missing something important.

"Draco?" he asked. "Where's-" He stopped short as Hermione shifted on the sofa while turning a page of her book. Her own necklace, which had been hidden beneath her jumper all morning, had slid into view, and on it sparkled something that most certainly hadn't been there before.

"Where's what, Harry?" Draco asked. Harry smiled softly and went back to his own book.

"Nothing," he said. Draco and Hermione looked at one another and shrugged, but the slight smiles they shared suggested they knew what Harry meant anyway.

"Good on you, Drake," Harry murmured, just low enough that only he could hear. "Good on you."

* * *

 **A/N: Ooooh, I've been waiting to write the scene on the Astronomy tower for _months_ now - so excited that I finally got there! Hope you liked it. Coming up soon: a Horcrux hunt, along with a (hopefully unexpected) twist...stay tuned!**

 **Thank you, as always, for reading! Seeing & hearing how many of you are enjoying this makes me happy.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	13. Disaster in the Hollow

**A/N: Just a quick warning that there is one instance of strong language in this chapter - I don't usually go that route but felt it was warranted here. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Bob Granger was restless.

It had been just over two months since he'd gone into hiding at Grimmauld Place. When Professors McGonagall and Snape had informed the rest of the Order of the evacuation plan back at October's meeting, Kingsley had suggested hiding Bob as well. Bob, he'd reasoned, had already been a target once, and that was before Voldemort's takeover of the Ministry, before the Death Eaters had begun their series of far more brutal and outward attacks all across the country. Hermione, of course, was still a prime target, given her close connection with Harry, and the Order couldn't guarantee that the Death Eaters wouldn't try to go after Bob again – and this time, he might not be so lucky. When he'd asked about his work, they'd come to the unfortunate conclusion that they just didn't have enough extra Order members to provide the security Bob would need for his practice to stay open – there were far too many ways for Death Eaters to disguise themselves as unassuming patients – and so he'd been forced to temporarily close up shop. Sirius had relocated to headquarters for the time being – it was one of the most intricately protected buildings in the Order's possession, and it was also far easier to be on hand in case of an emergency – and so, for practicality's sake, Bob had joined his longtime friend in London.

Two months later, Bob was feeling it – badly. He was bored, yes, but boredom wasn't the worst of it – what really got to him was how useless he felt. His wife had been murdered, his daughter would fear for her own life until this war was over – and possibly beyond, if their worst nightmares came true and they lost – and Bob felt like there was nothing he could do. Being a Muggle, he couldn't help with the actual fighting – a wand would be nothing but an ordinary stick of wood in his hands, and Muggle weapons, in addition to being hindered by all sorts of restrictions when it came to their ownership, were no match for a well-placed curse. Talking strategy was difficult when you weren't familiar with the places being described, some of which, like Hogwarts, weren't even accessible to Muggles, and there was no way for Bob to safely visit those places he _could_ get to – due, again, to the lack of a functioning wand.

With a sigh, Bob slumped in what had quickly become 'his' armchair in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place. He reached over and picked up a pawn from a forgotten chess game, the pieces silent and immobile now that they weren't in use.

 _This is all we are,_ Bob thought as he studied the delicate carvings around the base of the game piece. _Pawns – pawns in this awful war, sacrificing ourselves left and right to God only knows what end…_

"Knut for your thoughts?" Bob looked up to see Sirius standing in the doorway, his head tilted in question and his eyes curious.

"I'd give you a Galleon if I had one," Bob replied dryly. He sighed and motioned to the room's other furniture, wordlessly inviting Sirius to sit.

"Any news?" Bob asked once Sirius had sprawled himself across the sofa. Sirius shrugged.

"Nothing new, really," he said. He pulled a sheet of parchment from his pocket and studied it. "All's well at the safe houses, although we do have to think about looking into the situation at Andromeda's soon, if Tonks is going to be staying there. And Tonks, for the record, is being an absolute bear about being taken off missions, never mind that she's a complete klutz on a normal day…" Tonks, much to the delight of Harry and his friends when they'd finally found out at Bill and Fleur's wedding, had fallen pregnant shortly after fall term had begun, and Lupin had recently put his foot down about her participating any further in the more dangerous Order work. Tonks had protested vehemently, reminding her husband that the Order needed all of the Aurors it could get, but Lupin wouldn't budge – Auror or not, Tonks wouldn't be any help in the field if she had to worry about her unborn child. In the end, Tonks relented, but she still insisted on being involved in every way she could. As Lupin didn't like the thought of leaving her at home alone while he was on missions, Andromeda suggested that her daughter might like to temporarily relocate to her family home. Tonks had warmed to this idea much faster than that of forgoing missions – after all, she'd always been close with her mother – but the elder Tonks' home was already full of Hogwarts refugees, and they would have quite a time of it when Tonks moved back home in just a short while.

"She's a fiery one, that's for sure," Bob said with a small chuckle. He didn't know all of the Order members, of course, but he knew a fair few, and Tonks was one of his favorites – she had a way of bringing light to even the darkest of situations, she had a wicked sense of humor, and of course she was a fantastic older sister figure for Hermione.

"We did lose two Order members last weekend," Sirius said grimly. "Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones – good people."

"What happened?" Bob asked, hoping the answer wasn't anything too violent.

"Ambushed," Sirius replied. "They'd been tasked with taking Harry's Muggle relatives – the Dursleys, you remember them, I'm sure – into hiding."

"Why did they need to go into hiding?" Bob asked, looking confused. Sirius shrugged again.

"Somebody thought Riddle might send someone after them, given their connection to Harry," he said. "Never mind that they're hardly close – anyway, we couldn't in good conscience just ignore the idea, and so we sent those two, along with Minerva, to speak with them. Vernon nearly had a stroke, from what I understand, he was so mad, but luckily, his wife decided to see sense for once and persuaded him that it was for the best. All three of them are fine, by the way – Dedalus and Hestia got them to safety. It was on their way back that they were caught." Bob winced.

"We don't really need any more news like that," he said quietly. Sirius shook his head.

"No, we don't," he sighed. He was silent for a moment before looking up at his companion. "Are you alright?" Bob snorted.

"My wife is dead, my daughter is in hiding, and there's nothing I can do to help," he replied. "Do you think I'm alright?" Sirius stared at him.

"Nothing you can do to help?" he repeated. "Merlin, Bob, if you were looking for something to do, all you had to do was ask!"

"Sirius, that's kind of you to say, but we both know I can't really help much," Bob said.

"'Can't help much' isn't the same as 'can't help at all'," Sirius replied. He held up his parchment, which upon closer inspection Bob found to be a scrawl of notes.

"As I'm sure you're well aware by now given Hermione's penchant for reading, this house has a library," Sirius said. "Libraries mean research, and research is what we need. Any chance you're as fond of it as your daughter?"

"What are we researching?" Bob wanted to know.

"The sword of Gryffindor," Sirius said at once. "It's an extremely important historical artifact – as the name suggests, it belonged to Godric Gryffindor, one of-"

"One of the founders of Hogwarts," Bob finished. "Yes, I've heard you all mention the name many times before."

"Right. Well, Dumbledore left it to Harry in his will, and nobody has any idea why. It's a beautiful weapon, of course, but I highly doubt Riddle's going to be taken down with a blade. There must be something special about it, some use Dumbledore had in mind."

"But knowing Dumbledore, it could be anything," Bob added. "I see the problem." He paused and thought for a moment. "Hang on – are you telling me your godson's lugging a thousand-year-old sword around with him, wherever they are?" Sirius barked out a laugh.

"No," he said. "You see, while the Ministry had no choice but to release the rest of the will's contents, Scrimgeour insisted that Dumbledore didn't have the right to give away the sword, as it was an historical object and could therefore, theoretically, belong to _any_ Gryffindor. We don't even know where the sword is – knowing Dumbledore, he probably hid it somewhere he no doubt thought was ingenious. So yeah, we do have to find the sword as well…although I think knowing _why_ we need to find it so badly is a touch more important."

"And you think your family's library will tell us why?" Bob asked, sounding skeptical.

"No idea – but there are plenty of history books in there. Even the darker books might be able to give us a hint – maybe the sword's bewitched or enchanted somehow."

"I suppose it can't hurt to look," Bob conceded, putting the pawn back onto the chessboard and rising from his chair. "And Hermione had to have gotten her appetite for learning from somewhere – Helen and I did survive both university and dental school, after all." Sirius laughed again.

"And anyone who willingly commits to that much extra schooling must be at least somewhat good at research," he concluded. "Come on, then – I'll show you to the library."

* * *

The Black family library did indeed prove to be a good distraction for Bob, although many of the books made him queasy – Sirius had gone over each shelf carefully to make sure that none of the books would harm any non-pureblooded readers, and while that spell came up negative, it didn't change the gruesome contents of many of the tomes. Incantations to turn a person inside out, potions that slowly and painfully dissolved one's inner organs, numerous ways of trapping a person within his own mind…Bob knew, of course, that the Wizarding world was a dangerous place, but that didn't make anything he found any less disturbing.

It had been two weeks since Sirius first proposed the search, and so far, it had proven disappointing. There was almost nothing on the sword of Gryffindor itself, and so they'd moved on to goblin-made objects. Goblin work, Sirius explained, was often infused with powerful protection charms and other ancient magic, and perhaps looking into such enchantments would shed some light on the sword's importance.

"More of the same," Bob said with a sigh as he closed yet another book. "Goblin-made objects are practically indestructible and only absorb what makes them stronger – what the latter means, I haven't got a clue. I only know we haven't found anything that would distinguish the sword from Fleur's wedding tiara."

"Well, it means they don't get dirty, for one," Sirius said. "Goblin-made armor, for instance, won't need polishing because dirt or anything like that won't stick to it – why Molly thought Fleur's tiara needed cleaning was beyond me; she should've known it needed nothing of the sort. I dunno what could make goblin work stronger, though – the stuff is already some of the strongest out there."

"What are we going to do?" Bob asked. "We're running out of books."

"Well…" Sirius paused. "We do have other things we could research – other historical objects, I mean. I can't really explain why, because it's not my story to tell, but Harry, Hermione, and Draco do need that information." Sirius had kept his word to the trio not to tell anyone else about the Horcruxes, respecting that it was their decision who to let in on the secret and that the fewer people who knew, the less chance there was of Voldemort somehow finding out what they were up to. Sirius, for instance, was gifted in Occlumency and would be able to keep the information protected under extreme duress if need be, but Bob hadn't had – and _couldn't_ have – that kind of training, and he'd accepted that there were some things he just couldn't know, for safety's sake.

"Important historical objects," Bob repeated. "Alright…but isn't that the point of this sword search?"

"They might be related, but they might not be – until we learn the sword's purpose, we won't know for sure," Sirius admitted. "But I think it's time we gave up on the sword research for now – I don't think these books are going to give us what we need. The Hogwarts library might have something, but we can't exactly just head up to the castle with those Carrows prowling around. No, I think I'm going to have to go elsewhere for information on the sword."

"Where do you think you need to go?" Bob asked.

"Back to Godric's Hollow," Sirius replied. "The village where Harry was born, the one I took him to the same summer Draco found you at Malfoy Manor. There's an old historian who lives there, wrote the textbook they use in History of Magic, and while she wasn't particularly helpful when it came to what we needed at the time, this is a broader topic and might actually yield some results."

"Well, then I wish you the best of luck," Bob said sincerely. "Our leads have been so few and far between lately, I'll take anything I can get."

"Too true," Sirius said with a snort. "It's a bit late now, but I'll go tomorrow. Stop in and see Patrick and Siobhan while I'm at it."

"You're going alone?" Bob asked, looking worried. Sirius sighed.

"What else can I do?" he said. "Snape and McGonagall are at Hogwarts, Molly and Arthur have their hands full with their Hogwarts refugees, Kingsley can't skip work and is busy playing security to just about everyone in England, plenty of others are already on missions…no, the other Order members have enough on their plates without a day trip thrown in the mix."

"I'd like to come with you," Bob said.

"What?"

"I'd like to come with you," he repeated. "I know it's not exactly safe out there, but we all know this place isn't impenetrable, either – if the Death Eaters really wanted to, I'm sure they could figure out a way to get in. Harry is a perfect example that even the Fidelius Charm isn't infallible. I just…I need to get out of the house. Just for a little bit. And I'd feel much better if you weren't going off on your own – I know I'm not much help in the magic department, but it couldn't hurt to have some company, could it?" Sirius grinned.

"You're right," he said, clapping Bob on the shoulder. "I don't know what I'd do if I were the one confined to this dreary place all day – go mad, no doubt. We'll leave in the morning."

* * *

After a hearty breakfast, Bob and Sirius made sure they had everything packed in case of an unexpected overnight stay before Sirius Side-Along Apparated them to Godric's Hollow. They appeared in the same alley that Sirius and Harry had come to on their previous trip, and just like Harry had done, Bob looked very ill when they landed.

"Drink this – it'll help," Sirius said, passing over a vial of the anti-nausea potion he'd given his godson. Just as Sirius knew he would, Bob instantly felt better once he'd downed the purple liquid, and the two set off for the rows of cottages at the far end of the village.

"Are you sure she's home?" Bob asked doubtfully as they made their way up Bathilda's front walk.

"Bob, I don't think she's left her house in almost a decade," Sirius replied. "She's ancient. Whether she's awake is another story – hopefully she can forgive us for being so rude as to appear on her doorstep so early." Without a second thought, he reached out and rapped his knuckles smartly on the door. For several long moments, there was nothing but silence, but finally, they heard a faint shuffling as though something was moving inside the house, and the door slowly creaked open.

"Ah, Miss Bagshot," Sirius said once the old woman had come into view. "My apologies for intruding at this hour, but I was hoping to speak to you. May I come in?" Bathilda did not speak, merely nodding and motioning towards her front room.

Sirius recalled from his previous visit that Bathilda moved slowly, but that seemed like nothing compared to the shuffle she affected now, every movement of her body as though she were submerged in the thickest taffy. The clutter was still there, but the cleanliness wasn't – a used tea tray sat moldering away on a corner table, dust was accumulating on the room's many surfaces, and the whole place smelled something awful.

"Has Patrick not been in recently?" Sirius asked, knowing that his friend often came in to check on Bathilda. Bathilda didn't answer, instead offering them tea with a slight motion of her hand, which both he and Bob declined.

"Miss Bagshot, I was hoping you could tell us a little bit about goblin-made objects," Sirius continued. Again, Bathilda did not answer. Her eyes were thick with cataracts now, and Sirius was astonished at how rapidly she'd declined since he'd last seen her, quite sure now that she was at least partially blind.

"What do you know of goblin-made objects?" Sirius repeated, raising his voice a little in case Bathilda had also lost some of her hearing. Yet again, he received no answer, and Sirius began to grow frustrated. Why did she all of a sudden not understand him?

"Sirius…" Sirius looked up to see that Bob had risen from the sofa and was slowly backing away. "I think something's wrong. Very wrong." His only response was a low hiss…but it didn't come from Sirius.

"What was that?" Sirius demanded, his grey eyes rapidly scanning the room.

It happened without warning. One second, Bathilda stood before them, and the next, her body opened like a zipper on a coat, crumpling to the floor as it split neatly in two.

"Fucking Merlin!" Sirius swore, already throwing curses at the monstrous snake that had slithered its way out of what had once been Bathilda Bagshot. The snake lunged, hissing and spitting as lethal-looking fangs snapped at whatever bits of Sirius they could reach. Bob frantically scanned the room for anything he might use as a weapon, but the only likely candidate was the fire poker…which was on the other side of the snake. The closest thing to him was a bookshelf, and while it wasn't ideal, it would have to suffice. Sending a quick apology to Hermione for what he was about to do, Bob picked up a book and hurled it with all his might at the snake. Unfortunately, the hit didn't do much besides anger the snake further, but it was the only thing Bob could do – he'd come to help Sirius, and he wasn't about to leave his friend to fight this monster alone.

 _"Sectumsempra!"_ Sirius shouted, recalling the story of the spell that Ron had used on Draco and what it could do. Deep gashes ripped open the snake's hide from nose to tail, but the beast kept fighting even as it dripped blood all over the carpet, spitting in rage and trying even harder to get closer. The snake was a smart one, dodging many of the other hexes Sirius threw its way, and it finally decided to do what it should have done from the start – go for Bob. Bob had nothing to defend himself with besides dusty old books and was therefore the lesser threat.

What the snake didn't account for, however, was Sirius' reaction – as soon as the snake lunged for Bob, Sirius transformed into his Animagus form, snarling and snapping as he threw himself at his foe. He locked his teeth around the serpent's neck as best he could and shook vigorously, hoping to kill the creature with his powerful jaws. The snake's blood, however, tasted like poison, and it wasn't long before Sirius was forced to let go and rely on his claws, which weren't nearly sharp enough to be effective against something so big. Bob continued throwing everything he could at the snake, careful not to hit Sirius, while the two animals fought for dominance. The struggle was a long one with many wounds inflicted on both sides, but Sirius finally managed to hurl both himself and the snake into the china cabinet at the far end of the room, leaping out of the way just in time as the hutch tipped over and buried the snake under a pile of wood, glass, and porcelain. Knowing the snake probably wasn't dead and they didn't have much time before it pursued them again, Sirius returned to human form, snatched up his wand, and grabbed Bob by the sleeve, Apparating them both directly into the main room of the Golden Lion. The pub was empty save for Siobhan, who shrieked and dropped the mugs she was cleaning with a loud crash.

"Sweet Mary, mother of God!" she exclaimed, resting a hand over her heart.

"Siobhan!" Sirius croaked. "Help me, please!" Siobhan looked closer and nearly fainted when she recognized the bleeding man sprawled on her floor.

"Patrick!" she shouted. "Patrick, come quickly – it's Sirius!" Moments later, her husband burst into the room, looking just as shocked as his wife at the sight before him.

"Merlin's beard!" he cried. "Sirius, what happened?"

"Bathilda – dead – giant snake." It was all Sirius managed before the blackness took him and he passed out.

* * *

 **A/N: Again, my apologies for Sirius' mouth. What an adventure though, eh? And plenty more to come - I think we'll be getting to a Horcrux hunt next chapter, along with that little surprise I mentioned...**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Didn't hear from too many of you re: the last chapter, but I hope my fellow Dramione shippers liked it all the same.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	14. The Cup and its Aftermath

Sirius was exhausted.

After he'd passed out, Patrick had hauled him upstairs to one of the inn's guest rooms and patched him up as best he could. He'd finally woken up around mid-afternoon, stiff and sore all over and in desperate need of water. Siobhan had seen to that need, and almost immediately after that, her Irish temper had come out in full force as she shouted at him for a good half hour about how foolish he'd been. She was especially upset that Sirius had insisted on going straight to Bathilda's house without telling anyone in the village first.

"These are dark times and you know it, Sirius Black!" she'd scolded as she'd whacked him with a dish towel. "Goin' off someplace you haven't been in months with nobody knowin' – and here I thought you were smarter than that! What if you'd fainted in the house? What if you'd died? What was poor Bob supposed to do then, eh?" Bob, Sirius surmised, had obviously explained who he was and what they were doing there while Sirius was unconscious, because Siobhan knew that the other man was as Muggle as she and was clearly horrified at Sirius for being so foolhardy. Finally, she stopped reprimanding him and sighed.

"You're lucky I like you, young man," she muttered darkly, but she couldn't help the softening of her expression all the same.

"So Bathilda's dead," Patrick said once his wife had calmed down.

"Yeah. If I had to guess, I'd say she's been dead for a while," Sirius replied. "When was the last time you checked up on her?" Patrick frowned in thought.

"A few weeks ago, I think," he said. "She was quieter than usual, I remember that, but she seemed in good spirits otherwise. She didn't look like she was in any danger of dying, I mean."

"She very well could've been murdered," Sirius pointed out. "Old woman living alone – it'd be so easy to lure her away, or even just do away with her right in her sitting room. It's not like she had any security on the place; we walked right in this morning."

"That snake, though," Bob said with a shudder. "Is that sort of thing considered…normal?"

"No," Sirius said immediately, a frown prominent on his face. "No, it's not. That snake was obviously put there on purpose – what Riddle thought Bathilda knew that necessitated her death and subsequent bodily takeover, I dunno, but that's neither here nor there, I suppose. The important thing is the snake – obviously Riddle thought someone from the Order might come here to speak with her, or he would've just killed her and been done with it."

"Or Harry," Bob pointed out.

"Sorry?"

"He might've thought Harry would come here," Bob explained. "I know Harry's been here before, but we don't know where he and the others are right now, or what they're up to. Is it so odd to think that their research might lead them here?"

"No, not at all." Sirius looked thoughtful. "Well, whatever the reason, Bathilda's dead-"

"And you're lucky not to have followed her," Siobhan cut in. "You'll be needin' to see a Healer about those bites, you know." Patrick had tended to Sirius' wounds as best he could, and it didn't seem like the snake's venom had done any permanent damage, but only a Healer could say so for certain.

"I'll do that as soon as I can," Sirius promised. It was a promise he intended to keep – given the damage he'd done to it with wand, claws, and teeth, that snake should've died, but Sirius knew in his gut that it was still alive, and such a feat was only possible through serious Dark magic. If by any chance the snake's venom had any delayed side effects, they needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

"I think there's something else you need to do first," Bob said.

"What's that?" Patrick asked.

"He needs to tell Harry, Draco, and Hermione what happened," Bob replied. "If there's any chance they _are_ planning to come this way, they need to know what's happened – and even if they aren't, I think they'd want to know anyway."

"How?" Sirius wondered. "In case you've forgotten, we don't even know where they are."

"What about that special parchment you have?" Bob suggested. "Wherever they are, at least one of them is bound to have it with them – I remember you said it can only be used by its owner because it recognizes magic somehow, so it's about as safe as you can get." Sirius slumped against his pillow.

"You're right," he muttered. "I can use the charmed parchment." Why did Bob have to be so observant? Hermione had to get it from somewhere, of course, but Sirius would much rather that Bob hadn't remembered the parchment…because quite honestly, the thought of telling Harry about what had happened scared him almost as much as Siobhan's temper, and that was saying something.

* * *

"Padfoot's an idiot," Harry remarked, unknowingly echoing Siobhan's sentiments as he read the charmed parchment message and explained what had happened to Draco and Hermione.

"He's lucky, is what he is," Draco replied. "It's good that Lotte's dad was with him, but what good would that have done if Sirius had been too hurt to move? Bob Granger is many things, but a wizard, he is not."

"I want to know more about this snake," Hermione said with a frown. "First Mr. Weasley's bitten by a giant snake during the attack on the Burrow, and now Sirius sustains major injuries from a very similar creature in Godric's Hollow? Is it just me, or does that seem like too much of a coincidence to actually _be_ a coincidence?"

"You definitely have a point, Maya," Harry acknowledged. "There's obviously something special about the snake in Godric's Hollow, since it didn't die even after Padfoot tore at it like he did, and Mr. Weasley was in St. Mungo's for ages after he was bitten – is it possible it's the same snake?"

"If it is, then why didn't Padfoot have problems with the venom like Mr. Weasley did?" Draco asked. Hermione frowned again.

"Maybe the fact that he was in dog form when the snake bit him helped him fight it off a bit?" she suggested uncertainly. "I don't really know. But you're right, Harry – whatever it is, this is no normal snake."

"Ask Padfoot about the symbol we found, while we've got his attention," Draco said. Hermione had found an odd little drawing inked onto the title page of 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' in the book Dumbledore had left her, and none of them had recognized it. As it was the only anomaly they could find when they'd compared it with other editions of Beedle's tales, though, they suspected it might be important and had added it to their list of things to research.

"I s'pose it can't hurt to," Harry replied, and he picked up his quill.

 _Any idea what this means?_ He sketched the symbol Hermione had found: a triangle with a circle inside of it, both shapes bisected by a vertical line.

 _It's the symbol of the Deathly Hallows,_ Sirius replied after a long pause. _I told you about them when we saw that performance in Godric's Hollow, remember? Patrick's seen it before as well – he says those people who believe the Hallows are real use this symbol as a means of identifying themselves to other 'questers'._

"They must still be in Godric's Hollow, if Padfoot's talking to Patrick," Harry commented once he'd finished reading the reply aloud.

"What are the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione asked.

"The objects in that story, 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'," Harry replied. "The wand, the stone, and the cloak – apparently some people believe they're real."

"Do you think Dumbledore thought they were real?" Draco asked. "Is that why he brought this particular story to our attention, with that particular symbol? If he even drew the symbol at all, of course."

"There's nothing else in here that seems worth a second look," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "If I was supposed to find something in this book, I think that symbol is it – but how could they be real? Those three objects have powers far beyond even the most advanced magic."

"I think the only one we could say is definitely possible is the cloak," Harry said. "After all, the cloak in the story hid the third brother so completely that Death never found him, no matter how hard or long he searched. Most invisibility cloaks start to lose their effectiveness after a while, but I think mine is proof that there are sturdier ones out there – it was my dad's before me, of course, and who knows where it came from before that, but it's never once failed me even though most such cloaks would've fallen apart ages ago. Whether it's one of a kind or not, I have no idea, but you can't deny it's a true cloak of invisibility."

"No, we can't," Draco agreed. "That cloak is definitely special. The other two 'Hallows', though, present a bit of a problem. The stone is obvious – how many times have our professors told us that no magic can reawaken the dead? They can choose to come back as ghosts, or be immortalized in paintings, but nothing more. The wand…well, I know next to nothing about wand lore, so I can't really say one way or the other, but is it possible that one wand exists that is truly so much more powerful than any other wand?"

"Well, some wands are definitely more powerful than others," Hermione said. "But a wand that beats out every other wand in existence? That's harder to say."

"Ollivander," Harry said suddenly.

"Sorry?" Draco asked.

"Ollivander," Harry repeated. "If anyone would know the answer to that question, it'd be him…d'you think it's possible that Riddle's heard of this wand as well, and that's why Ollivander's missing?"

"I hope not," Draco said with a shudder. "Can you imagine Riddle with an unbeatable wand?"

"I don't even want to think about that," Harry agreed.

"Why don't we write to Peter?" Hermione suggested.

"Peter Johansson?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. He might not know anything about a supposedly unbeatable wand, but weren't you thinking of asking Ollivander about the unusual connection between your wand and Riddle's? Even if he doesn't know very much, he might still be able to shed some light on the situation." Peter, one of Durmstrang's champions in the Triwizard Tournament, had been apprenticing with a wand maker in his home country of Switzerland since he'd left school, and the friends had even helped him with a research project of his when he'd first started.

"That's not a bad idea," Harry said, nodding in approval. "You're right – Peter might be able to help us." He crossed to the little desk in the far corner of the room and found a clean sheet of parchment, bringing it back to the coffee table so he could write his letter.

"Isn't it almost time for _Potterwatch?"_ Hermione asked as she glanced at the clock.

"That it is," Draco agreed. He strode to the little wireless and tapped it.

"Phoenix," he said. The wireless' dial whirred for a moment, and then a familiar voice came through:

"Good evening, ladies and gents, and welcome to tonight's edition of _Potterwatch!_ I'm River, and I'll be your host." Lee Jordan's voice came through as clear as though he were in the room with them, and they all smiled broadly.

"That boy was born to be a commentator," Hermione said fondly, recalling entertaining Quidditch commentaries from years past.

"It seems the head Death Eater has been keeping quiet lately, but unfortunately, we can't say the same for his followers," Lee continued. "We regret to inform our listeners of a surprise attack on the Hogwarts Express during its journey back to Scotland last week. From what we understand, there were no fatalities, but there were injuries reported amongst those students who fought the intruders, and one student has gone missing. If anyone out there has information on the whereabouts of sixth-year Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood, her family and friends are desperate for news. Luna, if you're somehow hearing this, please, send us a sign that you're alright."

"Oh, no!" Hermione gasped softly. "Luna!"

"What would they want with Luna?" Draco asked. "Why take her?"

"She's a prominent member and supporter of the DA," Harry said, a hint of a groan coming through. "That doesn't explain why they'd take her in particular when there are others as well, but…God, if something happens to her…" The rest of his thought went unspoken, and neither Draco nor Hermione seemed inclined to finish it. Luna was a little odd, yes, but she was their friend, and despite all she'd been through, she still had a unique sort of innocence and an unwaveringly optimistic view of the world that they simultaneously envied and never wanted her to lose.

"We'd also like to report the disappearance of Mrs. Augusta Longbottom," Lee continued. "Mrs. Longbottom was attacked in her home last Thursday evening but escaped and is presumed on the run. Again, anyone with further information, we'd love to hear from you."

The broadcast continued with an update on the Muggle-born Registration Commission – anyone who had managed to evade the system now faced a minimum of fifteen years in Azkaban – as well as a report about Inferi, reanimated corpses that Riddle was apparently fond of using. After dispelling a few rumors and concluding with a Dementor report, Lee reminded his listeners to practice constant vigilance, gave the next show's password, and signed off.

"Cheery, as always," Draco sighed as he flicked his wand to turn off the now static-filled radio.

"At least they're all still alive," Hermione pointed out.

"I wish we knew why Luna was taken, and why they went after Neville's gran," Harry said worriedly. No sooner had he voiced his concern was there a knock on the door, and he hurried to let Ginny in.

"You heard the latest broadcast?" she questioned as she took a seat near the fire. The others nodded.

"Any word on Luna?" Hermione asked. Ginny shook her head.

"No. The attack was more like an ambush – it came on so suddenly, and we were so focused on protecting the younger kids that we hardly had any regard for ourselves," she admitted. "Most of the injured were members of the DA, as you can imagine, but nobody was seriously hurt. It seems the Death Eaters involved had come just to kidnap Luna, because they hardly put up a fight except to give themselves enough time to get off the train again. I tried to Stun the one who'd grabbed her when I realized what he meant to do, but he hit me first, and by the time I woke up, they were gone."

"I'm sure she'll be alright," Draco said, though he didn't sound very sure of himself. "If anyone can manage to get through a situation like that unscathed, it's Luna."

"Either that, or they'll completely break her," Hermione replied, her lip trembling a little.

"I don't think there's anything we can do but hope it's the former," Harry said with a sigh. "We're not even in a position to go looking for her." He kicked the table leg in frustration and dropped his head in his hands.

"I just want this to be over," he mumbled through his fingers. "Why can't that bastard just disappear?"

"That's one thing we _can_ do," Ginny reminded him. "You have ideas about the remaining Horcruxes – why not go after one of them?"

"Now?" Harry asked.

"Well, no, not right this minute, obviously," Ginny said exasperatedly. "Somehow, I don't think Apparating to a strange place in the dark is a good idea…but there's no reason not to try it soon. It's not like you three are attending class or anything like that."

"No, we're not." Harry looked up at his friends. "Alright, we'll try the Riddle mansion, then – we know where it is, at least, and it's as good a guess as any for a possible location."

"Who's going to go?" Draco asked. "The invisibility cloak is great, obviously, but it can't cover all four of us."

"All four of us?" Ginny repeated.

"Sure. You're just as much a part of this as we are, Gin, and you haven't gotten to go anywhere yet," Draco explained. "Thanks to the Marauder's Map, we can get you out of the castle easily enough, so we just have to pick a time when no one will notice if you go missing for a little while."

"Ginny can't go, Dragon," Hermione said quietly. The others all turned to look at her.

"Why not?" Draco asked. "She's definitely capable-"

"I'm not saying she isn't – she is, absolutely. But getting her out of the castle for that long without her absence being noticed would be next to impossible, and even if we could, there's still the matter of the Trace. Ginny's not seventeen yet – if she casts even so much as a _Lumos_ outside of school, the Ministry will be all over her in seconds."

"She's right," Ginny admitted with a defeated-sounding sigh. "If I go, I'll be useless unless you want me to lead them straight to you. I also can't Apparate on my own yet, so whoever was with me would be hindered by that as well."

"You could help destroy the actual Horcrux, though," Harry said. "As long as it doesn't put up a fight on the way back here, I don't see why you couldn't help with that – in fact, we'll probably need your help, since I think the best place to attempt destroying anything would be the Room of Requirement. We can have you ask the room for a safe place that will contain anything the Horcrux might try to do. The diary didn't do much of anything besides squirting ink all over the place, but somehow, I don't think every Horcrux is going to be so tame."

"That would make it too easy," Ginny said. "Yeah, I think I could do that. You guys retrieve the Horcrux, and I'll do what I can to help you get rid of it."

* * *

That Saturday, Harry and Hermione bid Draco farewell and slipped down the passage concealed by the one-eyed witch statue, a lengthy tunnel that eventually ended in the cellar of Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. As Hermione had done the most research into the kinds of magic they were likely to encounter, she'd been chosen as Harry's partner for this first trip, and Draco was going to spend the day in the library in hopes that he might finally find something useful in the _Prophet_ archives. Ginny was keeping him company while she did her homework, and the four friends would meet back in the guest quarters when Harry and Hermione returned.

After a lengthy walk and a near miss with the Honeydukes owner, Harry and Hermione finally found themselves on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

"On the count of three?" Harry asked.

"On the count of three," Hermione replied. The two friends took a deep breath, clasped hands for strength and reassurance, and visualized the road to Little Hangleton they'd seen in the Pensieve. One sharp turn later, and they were there, the street just as deserted as it had been when they'd followed Bob Ogden's memory down to the Gaunt shack.

"Riddle Senior and his girlfriend came from that way," Hermione said, pointing up the road to the right. "That might be a good place to start looking for the house." Harry agreed, and the two friends began the trek up the slight hill in the direction Hermione had indicated. It wasn't long before they reached a wide, sweeping drive, at the end of which sat a large house.

"This has to be it," Harry said. "Shall we have a look?" Hermione drew her wand and quietly cast a number of spells, and when all of her checks turned up negative, she nodded and followed Harry up the driveway.

It was immediately obvious that the house hadn't been touched since the elder Riddles had died – what must have once been a stately mansion was now a dilapidated mess. The outer walls of the house were almost completely covered in thick curtains of ivy, the few windows they could see were either extremely dirty or broken, one of the columns on the front porch had crumbled away, and the lawn was in desperate need of a trim. Flowers and weeds alike ran wild in the beds, the small gardener's cottage on the property long since abandoned. Deciding that the porch could very well give way under their combined weight, Harry and Hermione ventured around the back of the house.

"There must be a second door here somewhere," Hermione murmured as she searched. _"Diffindo."_ The severed section of ivy fell to the ground in a thick clump, and they were rewarded with the sight of a sliver of wood beside the stone. They cut away more ivy, the stuff falling into a pile up to their knees before they'd finally uncovered the door. The key sitting in the lock was so rusted that it snapped in half at Hermione's touch, but it didn't matter – the door wasn't locked in the first place. The thick wood creaked heavily on rusty hinges as she pushed it open, and they slowly crept into the house, Hermione continuing to cast spells as she did so.

"Well, for starters, there's nobody here but us," she whispered. "In fact, I can't detect any signs of magic at all – not in here, anyway."

"So it's safe to search?" Harry asked.

"Yes – but just in here. I don't think we should push our luck."

The kitchen – for that was the room in which they found themselves – was large, but aside from the standard cookware, it was empty. Not even a mouse's squeak disturbed the eerie silence, and it wasn't long before they gave the room up as a bad job.

"You said you could tell that the diary was a Dark object, Harry," Hermione remarked as she shut yet another cupboard and stifled a sneeze. So far, the house was lacking in Horcruxes, but they couldn't say the same for the dust, which coated everything around them like a thick blanket. "If there was a Horcrux in here, I think we would've felt its presence by now, don't you think?"

"We would've felt something, at the very least, yeah," Harry agreed. "I think we should move on."

The rest of the house was just as quiet and neglected as the kitchen – in fact, they searched the entire ground floor without ever coming across a single trace of magic. Hermione continued her scanning spells as they carefully climbed the stairs, the individual steps creaking with age, and her breath hitched when they reached the upper landing.

"Something's different here," she said. "I don't know what, but I think we're going the right way."

"It's in there," Harry added, nodding towards a door to their left. Hermione looked at him.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "How can you tell?" Harry shrugged.

"I dunno, to be honest, but it's definitely in there. Maybe because I've been around a Horcrux while it was being destroyed, I'm more attune to how they feel? I can't really explain it."

"I guess it makes sense, in a rather strange sort of way," Hermione acknowledged. She cast her spells again, this time on the door Harry had indicated, and when she'd deemed it safe, they entered the room.

 _"Lumos."_

The room was a parlor of sorts, with a sofa and matching armchairs positioned near a large fireplace on the far side. The left wall was lined with bookshelves, each one packed from top to bottom with thick volumes, and an intricate rug covered most of the floor. A wave of Harry's wand opened the drapes, negating the need for lit wands, and Harry gasped as he caught sight of the little two-handled cup sitting on the mantelpiece.

"Hermione, look!" he said, pointing at the cup.

"Hufflepuff's cup," Hermione whispered. "We were right. But…why is it sitting out in the open like that?"

"I don't know," Harry answered, frowning deeply. "We haven't encountered any sort of obstacles at all."

"I don't like it," Hermione said. "Something's not right."

"No…but what choice do we have? We have to get the cup."

It took Harry and Hermione almost forty-five minutes to reach the cup as they carefully scanned every inch of the room with their wands, their nerves only increasing as their spells continued to give them nothing. Even the cup itself had no protection to speak of – it was just sitting there as if nothing were wrong with it at all.

"I don't understand," Hermione said. "The spells guarding the locket at Malfoy Manor were so intense that Dumbledore almost died getting the chest out – if this really is a Horcrux, why is there nothing here?"

"I don't know, Maya," Harry replied. "But it's too much to hope for that Regulus or Narcissa found and moved more than one Horcrux, isn't it? And besides, this has that unmistakable air of Dark magic to it, just like the real locket."

"It does, I know. We can't deny that this is real too, but…"

"I know. Something's not right." Harry sighed. "Best get this over with – this place is creepy." Hermione couldn't disagree with that, and she passed Harry a small pouch, which he slipped over the cup and quickly closed so that he wouldn't have to touch the actual object. They'd all handled the real locket for mere seconds and had felt the evil radiating through it, and so they'd decided that touching the Horcruxes with their bare hands was to be avoided at all costs.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said. Hermione agreed once more, and the two friends hurried back down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door, which they shut firmly behind them. They then ran down the drive as fast as they could, both eager to return to the relative safety of the castle, and Disapparated as soon as they reached the road. The trip back through the tunnel seemed to last a lifetime, but they finally made it back to Hogwarts and hastened to find Draco and Ginny.

"Did you get it?" Ginny asked anxiously once they were all back in the guest suite.

"We did." Harry held up the little pouch containing the cup and quickly explained what had happened.

"You didn't run into any sort of trouble at all?" Draco asked with a frown once Harry had finished. "That doesn't sound good."

"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop," Hermione said with a shiver. "And since we haven't met any obstacles yet, I'm afraid that when it does, it's going to be really bad."

"Let's get rid of it," Harry said. "I don't want to hang around this thing any longer than I have to – there's no telling what it might do if we don't take care of it soon." The others agreed, and Draco hurried to fetch one of the basilisk fangs. Harry and Hermione donned the invisibility cloak once more – Draco, who was a pro at Disillusionment Charms, performed said spell to give them more room to move – and the hidden trio followed Ginny up to the seventh floor. When they reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry checked the Marauder's Map, and when he'd confirmed they were definitely alone, Ginny began pacing, carefully wording her request as she did. On the third pass, the familiar door appeared, and the quartet hastened inside.

The provided space, comparable in size to most of Hogwarts' classrooms, was Spartan in appearance and completely empty. They weren't quite sure what made this room acceptable for what they needed, but the Room of Requirement had never failed them before, and so they moved forwards. Harry very carefully set the pouch containing the Horcrux in the middle of the floor and removed the cloth, the little cup gleaming in the low light.

"So who's going to do it?" Ginny whispered as they all stared at the seemingly innocuous object in front of them.

"I can't," Hermione said at once. "I'm still scared out of my mind from everything we did today; I really don't think I'm strong enough to take this on as well." She was trembling as she looked at the cup, clearly still very afraid that something terrible was about to happen. Ginny grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"You were great, Herms," she said quietly. "I know you were – you and Harry wouldn't have made it back so easily if you weren't. It's alright that you're afraid." Hermione gave in and wrapped her arms firmly around the redhead, her face buried in Ginny's neck as she struggled to calm herself.

"I hate to say this after you've already done so much today, but you should probably take care of it, Harry," Draco said as his hand reached over to stroke Hermione's back. "You're the only one of us who knows what happens when a Horcrux is destroyed." Harry nodded.

"Alright, I'll do it," he said. "Give me the fang, then." Draco did as requested, and he and the girls watched as Harry slowly approached the cup.

"It's…hissing at me," Harry said, sucking in a breath. "Like it knows what I'm about to do." The sound was low, but they could all hear it, and their hearts sped up in anxious anticipation.

"Ok…on the count of three." Harry took a deep breath. "One…two…three!" Without a second thought, he plunged the fang into the heart of the cup. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the cup slowly began to crack, the hissing sound growing in intensity as it did so.

Harry sensed something was about to happen a split second before it did.

"Get down!" he shouted, pointing his wand at the cup. Draco immediately shoved the girls behind him as all three dropped to the floor, their arms over their heads. The explosion shook the entire room and a high-pitched scream had them all covering their ears and protesting in pain. A blinding light shot through the room, and then all was quiet. For a long moment, nobody dared move, but when nothing else happened, Draco finally lifted his head.

"Is it…gone?" he asked. He stared at the cup before adding, "Merlin, Harry, what happened?" The cup was no longer recognizable as such, as it had split wide open before melting into an indistinguishable blob.

"I dunno, but I've got a hell of a headache," Harry replied with a groan. "Ugh…yeah, it's dead." He rolled over and groaned again, this time in despair. "Oh, no…"

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking concerned.

"My wand," Harry said. He held up his wand – or rather, what was left of it. The wand had snapped almost cleanly in two, only the barest of splinters and the phoenix feather core still holding it together. Barring a miracle, it would never work again.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured. "I'm so sorry…" Harry nodded to show that he'd heard and stared forlornly at his ruined wand. It was common knowledge that the wand chose the wizard, and Harry had always felt that he and his wand were a particularly good match. Seeing it destroyed beyond repair made him feel as though he'd lost a part of himself.

"What are you going to do?" Draco asked. "You can't not have a wand…"

"I still have Nott's," Harry replied. "From the Astronomy tower. I loathe the idea of using it, but what else can I do?" He sighed and shook his head before running his free hand through his hair.

"Harry, you're hurt!" Ginny cried, rushing forward at the sight of the blood trickling down his face. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and dampening it with a flick of her wand, she brushed back his hair and began to clean him up. When she finished, she sat back on her heels, studying her boyfriend curiously.

"Something wrong, Gin?" Harry asked, confused by her odd expression.

"I…no," she replied, shaking her head as if to clear it. "You just have a strange cut on your forehead, that's all. Kind of looks like a lightning bolt…"

* * *

 **A/N: Yup, I just went there. Seems like the cup is going to cause far more trouble than they anticipated, no? Lots more to come, so stay tuned!**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & of course for reading! You guys are the best.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	15. Of Curse Scars and Wands

When the cut on Harry's forehead hadn't faded by the end of January, he resigned himself to the fact that it was probably more serious than he'd originally thought and would leave a scar. By mid-February, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny were starting to worry – Harry had been exhibiting some extremely uncharacteristic behavior lately, and they couldn't help but wonder if the strange mark had something to do with it.

"What if the Horcrux was enchanted in some way we didn't recognize?" Hermione wondered as she flipped through yet another book on curse scars, all but whimpering when it told her nothing that she hadn't already read.

"I think it might've," Draco agreed quietly, not wanting his brother to overhear. Harry had been prone to unpredictable mood swings ever since they'd stabbed the cup, and he often said things the others didn't understand. At the moment, Harry was absentmindedly playing chess against himself, muttering strategies under his breath as he carefully moved the pieces, but it was always when he seemed calmest that he suddenly snapped and said or did something truly frightening.

"What are we supposed to do?" Hermione asked, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Draco sighed and reached over to pull her close.

"I don't know, Lotte," he admitted. "I don't know that there's anything we _can_ do."

Just at that moment, the relative quiet was broken as Harry let out a sharp cry and bent over, clutching his forehead and writhing in obvious pain.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. She made as if to go to him, but Draco held her back.

"Don't," he hissed. "I know you want to, but you can't – we have no idea what's going through his head right now, and I won't run the risk of him hurting you!" Silent tears ran down Hermione's cheeks as she was forced to agree, and she clutched Draco's shirt tightly in her fingers as she buried her face in his chest and willed whatever it was that was hurting her best friend to disappear. Draco gritted his teeth and tangled his fingers in her curls. Why couldn't they figure out what was wrong with Harry?

"Rowle," Harry said quietly. Draco and Hermione's heads snapped up.

"What?"

"Rowle," Harry repeated. "You have greatly displeased me. Do you know what happens to those who fail me, Rowle?"

"Harry, what are you-"

"I have no time for your pathetic excuses," Harry continued, oblivious to his friends' shivers at the unusual coldness in his tone. _"Cru-"_

But Harry never finished the final word; instead, he began to scream, long, drawn-out, and painful, and shook so hard he fell right out of his chair. Abandoning all thoughts of getting hurt, Draco and Hermione leapt from the couch and rushed to Harry's side, pinning him to the floor as best they could so he wouldn't harm himself with all his thrashing.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. _"Dammit,_ Harry, wake up!" Unable to think of a better alternative, she slapped him, hard. Harry stopped struggling and opened his eyes, blinking up at them in confusion – Draco still held his arms in a death grip, and Hermione was sobbing openly beside him.

"Harry?" Draco asked cautiously.

"Rowle's in trouble – big trouble," Harry said, as if that would explain everything. He blinked again and frowned. "Maya, why are you crying?" Hermione responded by throwing herself on top of him, wrapping her arms around his torso in a fierce hug as she continued to cry.

"What's happening to you?" she demanded through her tears. "Merlin, Harry, do you even know what you're saying?"

"Rowle's a Death Eater, Harry," Draco said as he reached over and began to stroke Hermione's hair once more. "As far as I know, we've never encountered him…so how do you know that he's in trouble?"

"I said…" Harry paused, his frown deepening as he fully processed his brother's words.

"I said that," he said after a while. Another pause. "I'm having thoughts that aren't mine. They're…they're his, aren't they?"

"Something happened when the cup exploded, I know it!" Hermione said, sitting up and furiously swiping her hands across her wet cheeks. "Something went wrong, you shouldn't be hearing _anyone_ else's thoughts, never mind _his…"_

"Lotte, hush," Draco soothed, crawling over Harry's still-prone form to hug Hermione tightly. "We'll figure it out soon enough."

"But what if 'soon enough' isn't good enough, Dragon?" she snapped. "What if something else happens before we figure out what's wrong?"

"Hermione," Harry said quietly. He slowly sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, and wiped away her fresh tears with his fingers.

"Hermione," he said again, "I'm sorry that I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry that I'm scaring you. But what am I supposed to do? I'm scared too – I'm so scared." Hermione's lip trembled as she broke out in a fresh wave of tears, and the trio clung to each other as they gave in to their fears and cried. One of their number was broken, and for the first time, they didn't know how they were going to fix it.

* * *

Ginny dropped in for another visit two days later, bearing bad news.

"Hagrid's gone," she said as she collapsed into her favorite armchair. "And the DA's been disbanded."

"What?" Harry demanded, looking up from the notes he'd been perusing. "What do you mean, Gin?"

"They – the Carrows, and a couple of students, too – attacked Hagrid last night," Ginny said. "Well – they tried to, anyway. Nobody really knows what happened since they did it in the middle of the night, but Hagrid's hut has been burned to the ground, and both he and Fang are gone."

"Why Hagrid?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't it make more sense for them to go after someone like Professor McGonagall? They must know she's in the Order."

"It's actually a very strategic move," Draco said darkly. "Think about it – if they'd gone after McGonagall, she would've put up a fight, and you know how she is with a wand. They probably wouldn't have been able to take her down without seriously injuring or even killing her, and even if the Ministry is in Riddle's back pocket, the sudden death of the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts can't be so easily explained. Hagrid would've definitely fought back as well, but even if the Carrows had twenty students helping them, I highly doubt they could even Stun him – half-giant, remember? They're impervious to that sort of thing. But if they could do enough damage to drive him out of Hogwarts, they'd see that as a victory – Hagrid might not be a fully qualified wizard, but he could easily do just as much damage through brute strength alone, and if anyone's unconditionally loyal to Dumbledore, it's him."

"Damn," Ginny muttered as she let out a low whistle. "How do you do that? You're ridiculously good at explaining how they think."

"It's because I know how to think like a Slytherin," Draco replied.

"And we know you're right," Harry added. "Getting rid of Hagrid is a good move on their part – it leaves Hogwarts a lot more vulnerable."

"And that's what worries me," Hermione said with a frown. "Are they just trying to weaken the Order, or are they trying to weaken Hogwarts specifically?"

"You mean is Riddle going to move on Hogwarts next?" Harry clarified.

"Exactly."

"Unfortunately, I don't think there's any way of telling," Harry said with a sigh. "Once again, there's just too much we don't know."

"What did you mean about the DA, Gin?" Draco asked, steering the conversation back to Ginny's original news.

"Exactly what I said – the DA's over," Ginny replied. "Luna's disappearance shook up a lot of people really badly, and so many of us are hurting for other reasons – for instance, Seamus is completely lost without Dean, and Anthony and Terry haven't been the same since Michael almost died after that torture session. And now Neville…"

"Neville?" Hermione asked sharply. "What's wrong with Neville? Oh, Gin, please tell me he's ok!"

"Neville's alright," Ginny said quickly. "As alright as he can be, anyway – he's taken more than his fair share of curses this year, because of course no matter what the Carrows throw at him, he refuses to be lured to their side. I've never met anyone so steadfastly loyal. But recently, the Carrows must've finally gotten it through their thick skulls that he's not budging, so they tried to get rid of him."

"What do you mean?" Harry hissed, wincing at the thought of what his friend had to have faced.

"They tried to get rid of him – I think they meant to drag him off into the forest and kill him, to be honest," Ginny said with a grimace. "But what they didn't count on was Neville fighting back – and fight back he did. It was during dinner, and we all ran out into the entrance hall when we heard the noise. Neville and the Carrows were flinging hexes at each other, and then Crabbe and Goyle jumped in – I don't think they've ever done so well before; they're thriving with all the nasty curses they've been allowed to use this year – and then McGonagall tried to help Neville, but he said no, he wanted to do it on his own. _'I'll never turn my back on my friends,'_ he said. And then they dueled, and I don't think I've ever seen such a duel before – the professors were throwing up protection spells left and right, and some people were trying to help, but the duel was so fast I think we were all afraid we might hit Neville by accident. Nobody really knows how it happened, but somehow, the Carrows ended up unconscious. Neville didn't even look at them, just looked up at the rest of us and said, 'I will _never_ abandon Harry and his cause,' and then he turned and raced up the stairs. By the time the Carrows came to, he was gone."

"So where is he?" Draco asked, his tone laced with worry. "Do you know?"

"Room of Requirement," Ginny replied. "I've been visiting him when I can, just to make sure he gets the news he needs, has enough food, that sort of thing. It's really the safest place he could be right now, since I don't even think the Carrows and their cronies know it exists, never mind how to get in."

"They might know it exists," Draco said. "Remember, Nott used it to repair the Vanishing Cabinet – if he's in communication with them, he could've told them about the room."

"I suppose so…except that Neville specifically told the room to give him a place where the Death Eaters and their supporters couldn't find him," Ginny replied, her tone slightly proud. "I seem to recall that Neville was always best at closing the room's loopholes when we were younger, and it seems he hasn't lost that talent. I even asked him why he doesn't just get out of Hogwarts altogether, go to Hogsmeade and Apparate to an Order safe house from there, but he won't do it. He has a feeling it's all going to end here, and he wants to be first in line to help when it does."

"There's also a huge chance he'd be caught if he left the school," Harry pointed out. "If the bounty on his head is that high, it's probably better that he's still here."

"I'm proud of him," Hermione murmured. "Neville's not the shy little boy he used to be, is he?" Ginny smiled softly.

"No, he's not," she said. "He's done so much for his fellow students this year – kept them safe, been the leader they so desperately needed, been a shoulder to cry on and a confidante for the little ones…Neville's really grown into his own." She paused and pulled something from her pocket.

"You finally got a response from Peter," she said, handing over the letter. Harry made to reach for it, but before he could take the parchment, he doubled over again, his hands clamped over his scar and his cries both heart wrenching and terrifying. Unlike some of his other episodes, the cruel voice did not make an appearance, but Harry writhed in pain and screamed hoarsely before finally slumping to the floor in silence, the letter lying forgotten beside him.

"What happened, Harry?" Draco demanded as they crowded around him. Harry was gasping for breath, his face deathly white.

"He had her – a captive," he choked, his chest heaving as he struggled to regulate his airflow. "I don't…I didn't understand what was going on; something about a prison, and then…ugh…" Harry only just managed to roll over before he promptly threw up everything he'd eaten for dinner.

"Merlin, Harry!" Hermione cried as she cleaned up the mess with a wave of her wand and handed him a cool washcloth. She trembled as she helped him wipe his face. "It's never been this bad…"

"He killed her," Harry croaked, his throat hoarse and dry; Ginny rushed to fetch him a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully and downed in two long pulls. "He killed her, and then…that snake…"

"The snake?" Draco asked.

"The snake. It was huge…it…he hissed at it, but somehow I understood what he wanted it to do… _'Dinner, Nagini'…"_

The others gasped in horror. It didn't exactly take a genius to work out what the command meant.

"Did you… _see_ it happen?" Ginny asked slowly. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he said shakily. "Yeah, I did." Ginny stood abruptly.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said. "I need to speak to Ron – immediately." She left without further explanation, the others looking puzzled in the wake of her departure.

* * *

Almost forty-five minutes had passed by the time Ginny returned, yet the trio had barely moved a muscle – Draco and Hermione were still too tense after hearing Harry's story, and Harry himself still felt sick after what he'd seen and heard. Ginny dropped into her armchair with a dissatisfied huff.

"Well, you're not possessed," she said after a while, making the three on the floor jump.

"Possessed?" Harry asked. "What do you mean? And what does that have to do with Ron?"

"Quite a lot, actually," Ginny replied, fixing him with a steady gaze. "I don't know why we didn't think of it before, but Ron's been possessed by Riddle, and just now I went to ask him about it."

"The diary," Hermione breathed in recognition. Ginny nodded.

"Yeah. He was under the influence of the thing for almost the entirety of your second year," she said. "Harry, as you and I both know, the diary wasn't just controlling him, but the bit of Riddle housed inside it was possessing Ron as well, taking over his body for its own means – the soul bit needed a vessel to control the basilisk, open the chamber, and so on. I thought maybe what you're experiencing was something similar, since it's been going on since we got rid of the cup, but no such luck."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, looking disappointed.

"Ron wasn't all that willing to talk about it – I couldn't blame him, really – but he did say that there were loads of times he couldn't remember what had happened, sometimes for hours on end. He doesn't remember writing the message on the wall, for instance, or any of the times he let the basilisk loose – in short, he doesn't remember anything of when Riddle was in control."

"But I do," Harry said. "I remember everything I've seen in these horrible visions, even if none of them make any sense."

"So what's happening, then?" Draco asked. "If you're not possessed, then what's going on?"

"If we had an answer to that question, we'd be doing something about it," Ginny said dryly. "Look, Harry, if Ron's explanation is anything to go by, you're not being possessed, but we do agree that something's not right. You're seeing and hearing someone else's thoughts – Riddle's himself, from the sound of it – and that can't possibly be a coincidence."

"Determining whether or not it's a coincidence won't help me fix it," Harry pointed out. Ginny sighed.

"Way to state the obvious," she muttered.

"We're not going to get anything done if we keep arguing amongst ourselves," Hermione said firmly. "It's what Riddle would want, isn't it? For us to fall apart because of some argument?"

"Hermione-"

"No, Harry. I can't handle talking about this anymore – it's horrible and scary and I hate that we don't know what's wrong with you. I need to talk about something that might actually help us – where's that letter from Peter?"

"Oh – it's here," Harry said, picking up the envelope and tearing it open. He withdrew the parchment and began to read:

 _Dear Harry, Draco, Hermione, and friends,_

 _I am sorry to hear that things in England are not going well. We have been getting reports here in Switzerland, but none so detailed as the information you sent, and I was both shocked and saddened to hear of the current state of affairs. The small group of Durmstrang graduates I mentioned in a previous letter still meets often – we are more than ready to help, so please send word as soon as you need the extra wands._

 _On the subject of wands, I will admit that your question is one of which I know very little. I suspect someone like Gregorovitch or your Ollivander would be a much better person to ask – if I understand your letter correctly, however, both of these wand makers have been missing for several months now, so I will do my best to answer in their stead. Wands are not meant to react to one another in such a way, as it would make it rather difficult for the wizard wielding it to perform any magic of note if his wand were always responding to those around it. However, there are exceptions to almost every rule, and the exception here lies with wands with twin cores – cores that come from the same magical creature. Twin cores are quite rare, and as such, it is even rarer that wand brothers should meet, but if they did, it is understood that the cores would react against one another instead of performing properly. I am sorry I cannot give further insight into the matter – this is all I know._

 _Please do keep us updated on everything that is happening in England, and do not hesitate to contact us if you need anything. I cannot stress it enough that we are here for you. Be safe._

 _Yours very sincerely,_

 _Peter L. Johannson_

A lengthy silence followed Harry's reading of the letter. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"So what Ollivander said is true," she said quietly.

"Pardon?" Harry asked.

"When we first got our wands, Ollivander mentioned that he'd made and sold your wand's brother," Hermione said. "Remember?"

"And Draco mentioned it when we were in the hospital wing after the Astronomy tower fiasco," Harry added. "Trelawney's prediction from the night before had mentioned 'brothers in arms', and my wand and Riddle's had definitely acted strangely – yeah, I remember it."

"I do, too," Ginny said. "You told us about it when we got back from talking with Professor Babbling, and I said that if I were in your shoes, I'd want a new wand."

"Well, I had that problem solved for me, didn't I?" Harry said, raising Theodore Nott's wand in mock salute. He hated the idea of using the wand that had murdered Dumbledore, but the thing worked surprisingly well for him, and as his preferred wand was little more than a broken souvenir, he didn't really have much of a choice.

"Yeah, you did," Draco said with a grimace. He hated Harry's replacement wand just as much as Harry did, possibly even more so because he felt what that wand had done was partially his fault.

"And Gregorovitch is missing too," Hermione added, pointing to the relevant passage in the letter. "What on earth does Riddle need to know so badly that he's consulting other wand makers?"

"You think Riddle got Gregorovitch too?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded fiercely.

"What else could it be? Ollivander's been missing for months, and Peter says Gregorovitch has as well. If we're in agreement that Ollivander was kidnapped, then I highly doubt Gregorovitch just went on holiday."

"Well, unless we miraculously find one or the other, I don't think we're getting answers anytime soon," Harry said.

"Look at it this way," Ginny piped up. "At least with that wand, if you have to face dear Riddle in a duel, you know you'll be able to do it properly." Harry snorted.

"So reassuring, Gin, thanks," he said with an eye roll. Ginny mock bowed.

"Any time, my love. Any time."

* * *

 **A/N: Poor Harry - I'd be terrified out of my mind if I started having visions like that, wouldn't you?**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! I hope you're all enjoying the series. Also have several more stories sitting on the back burner for when this one's done, just FYI. :D**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	16. A Change of Scenery

Harry's 'visions' didn't get any worse as winter slowly melted into spring, but they didn't get any better, either. Draco, Hermione, and Ginny often found themselves puzzling over the many things Harry muttered that clearly didn't come from his own thoughts. 'Gregorovitch', 'Grindelwald', and 'Nurmengard' were among the words he repeated most, and while they'd figured out what each of the words meant individually – Gregorovitch, of course, was the other missing wand maker, Grindelwald was a powerful Dark wizard defeated by Dumbledore some fifty years prior, and Nurmengard was a prison – they had no idea how the words related, or if they were even connected at all. Harry wasn't much help either – he could remember each vision in startling clarity, but without any sort of context, he was hard pressed to understand their meaning. Riddle – for they'd all at least agreed that these were his thoughts Harry was seeing – seemed to be borderline obsessed with wand lore, but the friends didn't know the particulars. Was he researching the connection of the twin cores, just as Harry himself had done? Or was it as they feared and he was after the fabled elder wand, which could very well be not so fabled after all?

The Horcrux hunt seemed to have stalled as well. They'd destroyed the cup, yes, but the locket was still intact, and they had yet to uncover the identity of the remaining two objects. Hermione had gone through every book in the library that so much as hinted at a mention of Hogwarts' founders in hopes of finding a clue, but their notes remained the same: Gryffindor had left behind his sword and the Sorting Hat, Hufflepuff her cup, Ravenclaw her diadem, and Slytherin his locket. They'd ruled out the sword and the hat long ago, so that left the diadem as the lone possession of the founders they hadn't yet investigated. The only problem? The diadem hadn't been seen for centuries, possibly since the time of Ravenclaw herself. Unfortunately, just because the diadem hadn't been seen didn't mean it was impossible that Riddle had somehow gotten his hands on it, so they couldn't rule it out based on probability alone. Riddle had gone after the other founders' possessions with such gusto, so if he'd really wanted something of Ravenclaw's, he'd have found a way to obtain it. As for the final Horcrux's identity, none of them had even the slightest idea as to what it could be. Harry, Draco, and Hermione were also more than fed up with their suite – while staying at Hogwarts gave them access to the library and ensured they were safe and had enough food, they couldn't go anywhere without the invisibility cloak, and they hadn't been able to fly or practice dueling in months. The three friends were slowly but surely going stir-crazy, and something needed to be done before one of them completely lost it.

"This is bloody ridiculous," Harry muttered as he slumped back in his chair. Draco had just moved his rook two squares to the left, putting the Gryffindor in check for the umpteenth time that night. Not only was a loss inevitable within the next few moves, but Harry had also lost track of how many times he'd played chess in the last month, and he was more than sick of the game.

"What, the fact that I'm about to win again?" Draco asked with a smirk. "I don't find that ridiculous – that's just a mark of my superior chess skills."

"No!" Harry groaned. "What's ridiculous is that I can't even tell you how many games of chess we've played recently. When was the last time we flew? The last time we dueled? Merlin, if Riddle showed up and fought me right now, he'd win solely due to the fact that I haven't cast much more than an _Alohomora_ in months!"

"What are we supposed to do?" Hermione asked, frowning up at him from her customary place on the floor. As usual, she was surrounded by thick books and at least a dozen pieces of loose parchment, and the frustrated look on her face suggested that she wasn't having any more luck tonight than she'd had since she'd started researching. "We can't practice in here – never mind the fact that the Carrows would find out we're here in a heartbeat; we'd absolutely destroy the place."

"I know, I know!" Harry said in frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I just…I need to _do_ something, you know? I have this feeling that we're close, so much closer than we think, and yet there's still so much we need to do. Have you two forgotten that the locket is still sitting in the safe at Grimmauld Place?"

"We haven't," Draco reassured him. "Are you suggesting that should be our next move?" Harry shrugged.

"Why not? Headquarters is almost as well guarded as Hogwarts at this point – it might even be safer than Hogwarts, actually, considering there aren't any Death Eaters there. We could train there, we'd have access to the Black family library – Merlin knows we haven't found anything useful in the Hogwarts one for months, so why are we bothering to keep searching? – and we'd have a better idea of what the Order's been up to. Ginny's kept us in the loop, yeah, but I'd bet my entire Gringotts vault she doesn't know everything."

"Not with Molly Weasley as her mum, no," Draco agreed. "She's been reluctant from the start for Ginny to know anything at all, since Gin's still underage. And McGonagall and Snape are too busy keeping Hogwarts safe to know much of what's going on outside of it either, I'd think."

"I'm sure the professors know more than we think they do, but you're right," Hermione said. "We stayed here so we could research the Horcruxes, but we're at a standstill, and we're in desperate need of training time. Of course, we'll need a believable excuse as to why we suddenly want to be at headquarters versus the 'safe house' we're supposed to be in, but I think that's the least of our worries, all things considered."

"So it's settled, then," Harry said definitively. "We'll talk to McGonagall about it the next time she drops by and hope we can make this work."

* * *

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall, being the pragmatic woman she was, understood the trio's argument for a change of scenery. Unfortunately, however, she insisted that they would have to wait for the Easter holidays to make it happen, as it would be far too difficult for her to explain the time she'd need to be away from the castle to see them safely to London during regular term time. The Carrows, McGonagall told them, were furious that Neville had slipped through their clutches and had increased their watch on the school tenfold, with assistance from a small but disturbingly dedicated handful of students who openly supported them. Harry, Draco, and Hermione were dismayed at the thought of having to wait even longer to leave Hogwarts, but they understood the safety concerns and reluctantly agreed. The elder witch bid them goodnight and made to leave, saying she would keep them updated, when Hermione decided to take a chance.

"Professor?" she asked. "Who is the house ghost of Ravenclaw?" Professor McGonagall gave her an odd look.

"The Grey Lady," she replied after a moment. "Why do you ask, Miss Granger?" Harry and Draco looked to Hermione as well, silently demanding an explanation.

"We'd like to speak with her, if we may," Hermione said. "We're…looking into something related to Rowena Ravenclaw, something that once belonged to her, and the library doesn't seem to have what we need. Of course, I don't know the Grey Lady at all, but perhaps she might be able to help?" McGonagall sighed heavily.

"I do not know if that is the best idea, Miss Granger," she said. "The Grey Lady is…passionate, at the best of times, and highly unpredictable at the worst. Are you sure you wish to inform such a soul of your current whereabouts?" It was Hermione's turn to sigh as she looked at the floor and shook her head.

"You're probably right," she said reluctantly. "None of us even know the Grey Lady, so who's to say she would talk to us?"

"As she is a house ghost, I do not think she would be completely adverse to conversation," Professor McGonagall said. "Whether she would be able to help you, however, is another story. The subject of Ravenclaw is a very…personal one, and the memories are not good ones."

"The Grey Lady knew Ravenclaw?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"I should say she did. The Grey Lady's name is Helena – Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter."

"Her daughter," Hermione breathed, the professor's reluctance suddenly making sense. They'd read a lot about Ravenclaw's relationship with her daughter, a relationship that had ended very badly indeed. As Helena had reportedly stolen her mother's diadem, she would, of course, be the prime candidate to talk to about it, but given how that whole situation had turned out, asking her might not be the best idea after all.

"Yes, her daughter. Exceptionally clever, but also headstrong and very stubborn. I'm not advising you against speaking with her, merely suggesting that you exercise caution if you choose to do so."

"We'll keep that in mind, Professor," Harry assured her. Professor McGonagall nodded, apparently satisfied with this response.

"I'm afraid I must be going now – it's nearly curfew," she said. "If you need anything further before the Easter holidays, you know where to find me." She bid the trio goodnight, nodded once more, and left the suite.

As soon as she was gone, Harry, Draco, and Hermione turned to one another, eager to discuss this latest development.

"So Ravenclaw's daughter is a ghost here at Hogwarts," Hermione said without preamble. The boys nodded.

"McGonagall's right though," Harry said. "None of us are Ravenclaws, so what excuse do we have to want to talk to her all of a sudden?"

"Not to mention that without asking someone, we have no idea which ghost is her," Draco added. "This place is home to at least two dozen ghosts, plenty of whom are female, and the only one we know for sure _isn't_ her is Myrtle."

"You're right," Hermione said with a sigh, "and we can't even ask one of our Ravenclaw classmates for help because we're technically not even here in the first place."

"Maybe we'd find something helpful if we did some more research on Helena?" Harry suggested. "We know Rowena sent someone to find her daughter after she'd stolen the diadem, but how did the two end up dead? How old were they? Who was the man?"

"We've probably looked into those questions before," Draco said. "Lotte and Tracey did loads of reading on Ravenclaw before the girls went to Salem."

"We do know the answer to one of those questions, actually – we know that Helena was murdered, supposedly by the man her mother had sent to find her – but I suppose it can't hurt to try again," Hermione conceded. "Those questions weren't exactly the most important ones on our 'to-know' list before, so we might've missed something." She shrugged. "If nothing else, it gives us something to do while we wait for Easter."

Their search, however, proved largely a waste of time. By the time the Easter holidays arrived, the only new information they'd found on Helena was that she'd died young. They'd found absolutely nothing more about the circumstances of her death, nor anything on the identity of the man Rowena had sent to find her. Though they already knew from previous searches that the young man had died as well, they still didn't know the details. The only interesting tidbit they'd found during their search was the fact that both Helena Ravenclaw and the Bloody Baron had become Hogwarts ghosts at nearly the same time – what, if anything, this had to do with what they needed to know, however, was uncertain. The trio didn't even know if the two ghosts had even known each other before they'd died, or if their near simultaneous appearance was just a coincidence.

* * *

On the first day of the Easter holidays, Professor McGonagall arrived in the trio's suite to find them ready and waiting, their trunks packed and ready to go. Due to safety concerns, they would only be able to leave the suite one at a time – Professor McGonagall would walk them to the Head's office, where they would then Floo to Grimmauld Place, the connection having been opened by Sirius expressly for this purpose. The teenagers were each a bundle of nerves as they waited, in both the suite and the office, for all three to make it to safety, hardly breathing at all until they'd stepped into the sitting room at Grimmauld Place. Collapsing on the couches, they thanked Professor McGonagall profusely before she returned to Hogwarts. Sirius grinned at the trio from the doorway.

"So, a little bird told me that certain someones are anxious to get some dueling in," he said conversationally.

"More like a cat," Harry joked, referring to Professor McGonagall's Animagus form. Sirius laughed.

"Don't let her hear you say that," he chuckled. "She'll turn you _into_ a bird and chase you around faster than you can say 'meow'."

"Speaking from experience, Padfoot?" Draco asked amusedly. Sirius snorted.

"Like I'd tell you if I was," he said with a wink. "Now, as I was saying… _Expelliarmus!"_ Draco threw himself behind the couch just in time and immediately fired a Stunner in retaliation. Harry and Hermione wasted no time in joining the fight, which soon became a free-for-all as the quartet raced throughout the house, multicolored lights flying in all directions as they dueled.

"Awfully Slytherin move there Padfoot, starting on us with no warning!" Draco shouted, flinging an Impediment Jinx from his spot on the first floor landing. Harry, who had been too busy dueling Hermione to notice his brother's advantageous position, was hit square in the back, his movements slowing as if he were moving through molasses.

"Take a look around this place, little cousin!" Sirius yelled back. "I might've been in Gryffindor, but when it comes to snakes, I learned from the best of them!" He sent a spell up the stairs – Draco deftly rolled out of the way and it hit the wall, blasting a hole the size of a Quaffle through the wood and plaster. Hermione hit Sirius with a Leg-Locker Curse and he toppled over, but not before throwing a jinx of his own right back. She dropped to her knees and rolled away from the jet of light, almost colliding with Harry, who'd recovered from the _Impedimenta_ and promptly sent a Jelly-Legs Jinx her way. On and on it went, the foursome firing spells at one another as they ran up and down the stairs, formed barricades, used various objects around the house to their advantage, and once, in Harry's case, slid down the bannister with a wild war cry while throwing curses at everyone and everything he could see. They were making so much noise that the portrait of Sirius' mother woke within seconds, but as they were too busy dueling to care, nobody bothered to do anything about it besides tossing a spell or two in the nasty portrait's direction. It was utter pandemonium.

"Harry? What in Merlin's name are you doing?" a familiar voice demanded. Looking up from the barricade he was constructing, Harry noticed Ginny, Ron, and their mother standing just inside the front door, looking completely confused.

"Look out!" someone shouted. The chandelier in the entryway gave an ominous creak before the cables holding it aloft snapped and it crashed to the ground, Harry diving sideways and pushing Ginny and Ron out of the way just in time. They all coughed violently as a huge cloud of dust and smoke obscured their vision, and when it finally cleared, they could see the mangled wreckage of the chandelier scattered all around them. Sirius was frozen on the uppermost landing, his wand still outstretched, and Draco had Hermione pinned against the stairs about halfway down, his knife at her throat. Harry couldn't help it – he promptly burst into laughter.

"What the bloody hell do you think is so funny?" Ron wanted to know. Harry sat up and shook his head as he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Just…the looks on your faces… _damn,_ that was fun!" he managed. Ginny, having caught on as to just what the trio and Sirius had been doing, began to snicker as well. Ron looked stunned.

"The chandelier just about took your head off and you're laughing about it?" he asked incredulously. Ginny snorted.

"They were _dueling,_ Ron!" she said impatiently. "Take a good look around, will you?" Ron did – he noticed the hole in the wall, as well as the upturned sofa, the scorch marks, the screaming portrait, and a number of rungs in the stairwell that were either cracked or blown away completely. He caught a flash of silver on the landing and paused at the movement of Draco's knife, but quickly looked away again when he realized Hermione had succeeded in knocking the blade away and the couple were now doing something far more amorous in nature. This last bit aside, Ron had to admit his sister was right.

"Dueling or not, I would've thought you'd know better than to be so reckless, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley scolded, forcefully flicking her wand to close the curtains around his mother's portrait. "I hope you'll be a bit more careful if my children are here with you."

"It was just a bit of fun, Molly," Sirius reassured her. "Even the chandelier wouldn't have caused any problems if we hadn't been distracted – you do have to admit you arrived at a rather inconvenient moment." He winked ostentatiously at her. "Besides, do you really think I'd willingly throw any of these troublemakers into harm's way? They get up to enough of that without my help, you know." Mrs. Weasley muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'enabler'.

"Lovely to see you, dears," she said then, smiling warmly at Harry and glancing upwards to where Draco and Hermione were now seated side by side on the steps. They returned the happy greeting with ease, still on a high after the frenzied duel.

"I can't stay, Sirius – one of our charges is ill and Arthur, bless his heart, is useless with the sniffles," Mrs. Weasley continued. "Do let me know if you need anything? And of course there's the meeting coming up."

"I haven't forgotten," Sirius replied. "If anything happens around here that shouldn't, you'll be the first to know." Mrs. Weasley seemed to realize that was the best answer she was going to get, because she nodded in acceptance before kissing her children goodbye, hugging Harry, and waving to the others as she headed back out into the square.

"That's a bit of a broad range," Ginny commented to Sirius.

"Hmm?"

"What you told my mum – 'if anything happens around here that shouldn't'." Sirius chuckled.

"Well, I couldn't exactly say 'if anything goes wrong', because we all know something's bound to go wrong with you lot around," he quipped. "Anyway, you two have your luggage? Probably best you get settled in."

"So you're staying here with us?" Harry asked, struggling to contain his glee. Ginny nodded.

"Yeah – the safe house where Mum and Dad are staying has far too many people already, and they thought we might want to spend some time with you three." Taking care to keep her face hidden from Ron, she winked – she'd spent plenty of time with the trio since their 'departure', but only a select few knew of that arrangement, and Ginny wasn't about to protest her mother's suggestion.

"Keep your hands to yourself, you two," Ron muttered as he made to drag his trunk up the stairs.

"Ron, have you forgotten you're of age?" Ginny replied, staring pointedly at the trunk. "And I'll do what I please, thanks very much." As if to demonstrate the point, she pulled Harry close, giving him a quick kiss and another wink.

"Oy! Keep it to yourselves, will you?" Ron groaned. "At least wait 'til I'm out of the room! _Locomotor trunk."_ He maneuvered his trunk up the stairs with little difficulty and guided it through the door of the room he'd stayed in during his previous visits to Grimmauld Place. There was a thud and some brief rustling before he poked his head out into the hallway.

"When's dinner?" he asked. "I'm starved." Harry burst into laughter once more.

"Nice to see some things never change."

* * *

 **A/N: So this chapter kind of got away from me a bit...but the duel was wicked fun. Can't you just imagine them doing that? Haha...also, without author's notes, this chapter is exactly 3461 words. It matches the story title! Yes, I got excited about that, coz I'm just that much of a nerd...lol**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Exciting things coming up, so stay tuned!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Much love to you all - please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	17. Surprise Guests

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd been so worn out, but he was also happier than he'd been in ages and wouldn't trade his aching muscles for anything. Ever since they'd arrived at Grimmauld Place, he and the others had spent more hours than they could count dueling – their subsequent spars hadn't been quite so destructive as the first, as Sirius had fixed them up a room similar to the heavily-reinforced basement of the Potter-Black house – or flying. And _Merlin,_ did it feel good to fly again! His natural talent for the sport aside, Harry doubted there was anything in the world he enjoyed half so much as flying, whether as part of a Quidditch match or merely racing laps around the yard. In no time at all, they'd combined the two and were dueling on broomsticks, a fact that drove Molly Weasley up the wall with worry but left Sirius both laughing in amusement and gaping in impressed awe at the stunts his godson and his friends could pull so effortlessly.

Whenever they weren't throwing hexes or racing brooms, they caught up on the finer details of the war – despite having been in a far better position to hear news, Ron and Ginny really didn't know much more than the trio, and all five teenagers listened with rapt attention whenever an Order member came by with more information. Besides Sirius, the only adult who lived permanently at Grimmauld Place was Bob Granger – Hermione was both thrilled to see her father and impressed that he'd done so much to help – but Mrs. Weasley stopped in frequently, most likely to ensure that her children hadn't helped to blow the place up, and the teenagers also received visits from Lupin, Kingsley, McGonagall, and Fred and George Weasley. The constant chaos was a far cry from the peace and quiet of the guest suite at Hogwarts, but Harry had no doubts as to which one he preferred.

Roughly halfway through the Easter holidays, Harry, Draco, and Hermione were enjoying a rare moment of downtime in the library when Hermione spoke, her expression thoughtful.

"I've been thinking," she said as she stroked Crookshanks, who was sprawled contentedly across her lap, "that we need to start focusing more on getting rid of that locket. It's right here, and yet we haven't even so much as looked at it since we arrived." Harry looked up from the playing cards he'd been idly shuffling and frowned.

"Merlin," he said, grimacing slightly, "I'd completely forgotten about it."

"Well, we'll need Padfoot to unlock the safe for us," Draco added. "Should we have him help us destroy it?" Harry shrugged.

"I don't see why not," he replied as he put the cards down. "After all, he's been housing the thing for far longer than he even realized, _and_ he's got a familial reason to want to get rid of it." They all thought of Regulus, who had died at the hands of Voldemort himself in his attempt to acquire the locket, and Narcissa, who'd finished what Regulus had started and ensured that the real Horcrux was spirited away with Voldemort none the wiser.

"We should do it today," Hermione said firmly. "The Weasleys are gone for the day, and while I know Ginny knows all about the Horcruxes, I think trying to do something about the locket without letting Ron in on things would be rather difficult."

"I agree," Harry said at once. Ron was his friend – after all, they'd shared a dormitory for six years, survived the hunt for the philosopher's stone, and spent large chunks of their holidays together, both at the Burrow and elsewhere – but Harry wasn't close with him like he was with Draco, Hermione, or Ginny. Ron also wasn't the best at keeping secrets, and this secret was one that couldn't be compromised, no matter what.

"Last I heard, Padfoot was planning to sort out the desk in the drawing room," Draco said. "He said it might take a while, so I'm sure he's still up there." With that suggestion, the three friends left the room – Crookshanks gave a rather disgruntled meow when Hermione lifted him from her lap – and hurried upstairs to the tapestry room. Sirius stood next to the desk, his fingers idly flipping through a hefty stack of parchment.

"Hey, you three," he said as he set the parchment aside. "What's up?"

"Find anything interesting?" Harry asked in reply, nodding towards the parchment. Sirius snorted.

"Unless the records of my mother's robes being tailored qualify as 'interesting', then, no," he said. Harry laughed.

"No, not really."

"But I suspect you didn't come up here just to chat," Sirius continued. "Should I be afraid for the state of my library?"

"Padfoot, do you really think Lotte would ever let something happen to a roomful of books?" Draco asked.

"Oh, shut it, you," Hermione griped, deliberately elbowing Draco's side so he yelped. "There's nothing wrong with the library, I promise. We wanted to talk about the locket."

"Ah, the locket." For a long moment, no one spoke. Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"You did say you wanted to talk about it, didn't you?" he asked with a slight smirk. "I don't hear any talking."

"You're impossible," Harry muttered, though he couldn't help but grin. His expression sobered in time for his next sentence. "We think it's time to get rid of it."

"Now, that's a little more specific," Sirius said. He frowned. "I thought you didn't know _how_ to get rid of it?"

"The last time we talked, no, we didn't," Harry replied, "but we haven't exactly been idle, you know. The fangs did work on the cup, after all."

"And look how well that turned out," Sirius reminded him. Harry's cheeks pinked. They had, of course, told Sirius all about the cup's destruction and its aftermath, and Sirius now knew everything about Harry's unwanted visions and share of Voldemort's emotions.

"With all due respect, Sirius, just because the cup's destruction backfired so badly doesn't mean they all will," Hermione said. "I mean, aside from the soul bit screaming and Harry ending up covered in ink, the diary didn't do anything at all."

"Just because the locket might not attack physically doesn't mean it won't cause some other sort of harm," Sirius countered. "I'm sure I needn't remind you that emotional assault can oftentimes be far worse than its physical counterpart. On the off chance that someone did get ahold of a Horcrux, I've no doubt that Riddle would do everything he could to make sure the soul bit within fought back with every trick in his arsenal. However the locket tries to retaliate, it won't be pretty."

"But it needs to be done," Harry protested.

"I never said it didn't," Sirius said gently. "I just don't want to see any of you get hurt any more than you've already been."

"We were actually going to offer you the chance, Padfoot," Harry said quietly. Sirius looked up.

"Come again?"

"We wanted to offer you the chance to destroy the locket," Harry repeated, more firmly this time. "Your brother died to get it here, and your cousin played an instrumental role as well – the Blacks started it, so I think it's only right that a Black finish it, don't you?"

"I…" Sirius was silent for a moment, appearing to be at a complete loss for words. Then his expression of confused shock morphed into a grin.

"Couldn't rightly call myself a Marauder if I didn't leap headfirst into trouble every now and then, now, could I?" he asked. "I'll go get the locket, hang on…"

"He could've said 'Gryffindor' instead of 'Marauder' and it would've worked just as well," Draco joked as they waited for Sirius to return.

"Need I remind you that you're literally surrounded by Gryffindors on a daily basis?" Harry replied, cheekily drawing his wand and twirling it between his fingers. "You sure you want to continue that thought?"

"And don't even think about saying something about Slytherins and their self-preservation rubbish," Hermione added, her eyes dancing with mirth. "After all, Regulus and Narcissa were both in Slytherin, and look at what they did with regards to the locket."

"Must I fear for every room in my house?" Sirius said in mock horror as he returned, pressing his free hand to his heart. His other hand held the drawstrings of a simple cloth bag, which they knew contained the Horcrux. The teenagers immediately stopped play fighting and gathered around as Sirius tipped the bag upside-down and the locket tumbled out onto an ottoman.

"What now?" he asked. The trio exchanged glances.

"We decided we had to open it, didn't we?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

"But how?" Draco replied. "It's sealed shut, isn't it? And I highly doubt a simple _Alohomora_ will fix that."

"Parseltongue," Harry said. The others looked at him in shock.

"What did you say?" Draco asked.

"Parseltongue," Harry repeated. "We need to use Parseltongue to open it."

"How the bloody hell do you know _that_?" Sirius demanded. Harry frowned.

"I…I don't know," he said slowly. "It just…seems right."

"But none of us speak Parseltongue," Sirius replied. Hermione frowned even deeper than Harry.

"We don't…but Riddle does," she said, her expression worried. "Harry, you…you can too now, can't you?" Harry took a deep breath.

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" he said. He opened the pouch in which they stored their collection of basilisk fangs and carefully extracted one before offering it to Sirius.

"You should probably take this now," he said. "Like we said before, there's no telling how this particular Horcrux might react once it realizes what we're trying to do…"

"Harry, wait-"

Harry held up a hand, effectively cutting off Hermione's protest, and concentrated on the glittering emeralds on the front of the locket. Was it really so hard to imagine them moving, slithering about like the serpentine creature they resembled?

 _"Open,"_ he commanded. He only very faintly heard the hiss intertwined with the word, but the gasp from Hermione and Draco's sharp intake of breath told him he'd done it properly. Harry shook his head to clear it and backed away as the locket slowly creaked open.

The Horcrux didn't spit fire, or curse them, or, in fact, react in any violent manner at all. Instead, a large bubble blossomed from the inside of the locket, right in the spot where a picture might be. The bubble grew until it was as big as they were, and it slowly formed into the shape of a young woman. Wavy hair hung in a loose ponytail that just kissed her shoulder blades, and large eyes peered curiously as them all, but as she was transparent like a ghost, they couldn't distinguish her coloring. Those eyes narrowed when their gaze came to rest on Sirius, who was white as a sheet.

"You." The voice was soft, but laced with a dangerous overtone that none of them missed.

 _"No,"_ Sirius whispered. The way his godfather was looking at the woman had Harry recalling a conversation from just after his mother's death, and he had a sinking suspicion that he suddenly knew who the apparition was.

"You could not save them," the woman said, her tone cold. "Your brother. Your best friend. Your cousin. And so many others. Dead, all of them…and all of them your fault."

"No!" Sirius protested. The woman laughed cruelly.

"You think not? Think again, Sirius! Your brother, determined to play the devoted son because YOU had skipped out of your duties to go play with the Gryffindors. Your best friend, murdered because of a change in Secret-Keeper – and who suggested that? Your cousin, dead after-"

"Stop!" Sirius shouted. "You're wrong, you know that as well as I do!"

"Sirius, get rid of it!" Harry demanded. "Don't listen to her!"

"Are you so sure of that?" the apparition asked, looking smug as Harry's interruption went unnoticed. "And what of me, Sirius darling? I thought you loved me."

"I never stopped loving you!" Sirius cried. "Gods, Marlene, how could you ever think that?"

"Sirius, now!" Harry shouted. "It's not her, it's not really her!"

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione cried, looking fearful. "Who is she?"

"Don't make me laugh. I shan't believe in this farce any longer, and neither should you," Marlene sneered, her words dripping poison. She knelt and removed a wand from inside her boot.

"I'm going to do what I should have done ages ago," she whispered, her inflection deadly. "After all you've done…you deserve to be haunted with the lives you've taken, Sirius. None more so than mine."

"PADFOOT!" Harry screamed. This last-ditch effort, this use of Sirius' Marauder nickname, seemed to snap Sirius out of his trance, and with a strangled cry, he brought the fang down onto the locket just as the apparition raised her wand to snarl a curse. She shrieked loudly as the glass shattered, and with a long, drawn-out scream, vanished in an explosion of smoke and blinding light. When the room had cleared, they could see that the locket was now a mangled mess of silver, with no traces of the Dark magic that had surrounded it for so long. Sirius had fallen to his knees before the footstool and was staring blankly at the ruined locket, his eyes wet.

"It wasn't really her," Harry said immediately as he rushed to his godfather's side and wrapped his arms around him. Sirius had done the same for him on countless occasions when he was small and had been hurt or frightened – it was high time he returned the favor. Even fully-grown Gryffindor Marauders weren't immune to fear or pain.

"You said the emotional hurt is so much worse, and it is, and I still made you go through that, and…oh, Padfoot, I'm so sorry…" Harry's rambling and his slightly awkward hug seemed to break through Sirius' stupor, and the dark-haired man finally collapsed, sobbing unabashedly against his godson's shoulder. Harry just held Sirius tighter as his own tears began to fall. He only knew what little Sirius had told him about his fiancée that night in the Potter-Black basement, but he knew that Sirius had loved Marlene with everything he had. If he'd had to face Ginny saying those awful things, Harry wasn't sure he could take it. Angry with Voldemort for his unthinkable cruelty, Harry picked up the ruined locket and hurled it at the wall with all his strength, the outer casing snapping in half upon impact without the powerful Dark magic to hold it together. He then hugged his godfather tightly, only vaguely aware of Draco and Hermione joining in on the embrace, and let the tears come, cursing Voldemort all the while for being so utterly horrible.

* * *

Sirius was far more subdued than usual for the next several days, although Harry had done his best to reassure his godfather that nothing the Horcrux said had been true. Sirius had filled Draco and Hermione in on the story of his deceased fiancée, after which many more tears had been shed all around. On the fourth day, however, something seemed to change – the fire in Sirius' eyes returned, and he threw himself into his planning with gusto, determined to see Marlene's tormentors destroyed once and for all. Glad to have their Padfoot back, the trio did the same, training hard at every spare moment. They pushed thoughts of the two remaining Horcruxes to the side for now – they'd had more than enough of the evil things to last a lifetime, and they'd had plenty of time to research while at Hogwarts. Now was the time to train, to make sure they were ready when the inevitable battle finally arrived.

One night just before Ron and Ginny were due to return to Hogwarts, the occupants of Grimmauld Place lounged in the front room, nobody saying much except for Hermione, who was teaching her father to play wizard's chess. They were all worn out from a long day of training, and they were still trying to process the news of the latest Death Eater attack, which had happened just the day before and had left nearly twenty people dead. Dementors were freely roaming the streets of London, invisible to the Muggles but still affecting the city's overall mood, and it had been raining nonstop for several days. The horrible weather alone was enough to make anyone anxious, and the added threat of war left them all very tense indeed. Ron and Lupin had been sent to scout the neighborhoods surrounding Grimmauld Place in the aftermath of the attack, and the others were desperate for news.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted their silent musings, and they turned to one another in confusion.

"Who could that be?" Ginny asked as she glanced at her watch. "Ron and Lupin aren't due back for another hour…"

"No idea," Sirius replied, his brow furrowed. He rose from the sofa and hurried to the front hall, the others following closely in his wake as he drew his wand and began casting surreptitious detection spells.

"It's Moony," he said after a moment. "Moony and Ron. But…"

"Why did they knock?" Harry asked. "They can both get in…and why are they back so early?"

"Only one way to find out," Sirius said with a shrug, and opened the front door.

"Oh, wonderful! I was hoping you'd come quickly, she's rather desperately in need of water…"

Those inside the house stared dumbfounded at the group on the doorstep. Lupin had obviously been the one to knock, as he was closest. Ron stood to the side, next to an older woman they recognized as Neville's grandmother, but the biggest shock was the girl who had spoken. In spite of her haggard appearance, Luna Lovegood beamed brightly at them as they gaped in turn at the young woman they'd thought never to see again.

"Might we come in?" Luna asked politely. "I know it's rather rude to invite oneself into a home, but she does need help, if you don't mind…" Luna had now twice mentioned someone in need of help, and the others finally noticed the girl propped up between Mrs. Longbottom and the young Ravenclaw. None of them had ever seen her in such a state – her hair was dirty and unkempt, her clothes were torn, and she reeked of alcohol and stale cigarettes – but there was no mistaking that pug nose.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

* * *

 **A/N: So the locket is gone, & some unexpected guests have arrived at Grimmauld Place...what'd you think? :D**

 **Thank you, as always, for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! We're rapidly closing in on the final battle, folks - get ready!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	18. Luna and Pansy: Their Stories

For several long seconds, all those inside the house could do was stare in shocked disbelief at the odd group on the front steps. Never had they even imagined those particular people being in the same place at the same time – and yet, here they were.

"Well, are you going to let us in, or not?" Mrs. Longbottom demanded, breaking both the silence and the stupor. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, Remus did say this place is under the Fidelius, so unless you want your neighbors seeing something they shouldn't, you'd best make up your mind!"

"Oh, right – sorry," Sirius said quickly, moving to the side to let the new arrivals in. They had to shuffle in sideways due to Pansy's position between Luna and Mrs. Longbottom, but they somehow all made it inside and shut the door.

"Close your mouth, Potter, you'll catch flies," Pansy croaked. Harry immediately snapped his jaw shut but didn't remove his gaze from the Slytherin girl.

"Er…sorry," he said. "But I still don't understand what you're all doing here."

"Oh, we've definitely had quite an adventure," Luna assured him serenely. "But perhaps we might get cleaned up first? I'm rather exhausted, I'm afraid."

"Oh – yes, of course," Harry said hurriedly. In all the excitement, he'd quite forgotten that it was indeed rather late.

"Water first," Hermione said firmly, waving her wand to Summon several goblets from the kitchen. She filled them with a stream of pure water from her wand and handed one to Luna, who lifted the cup to Pansy's lips to help her drink. Some of the liquid sloshed out of the cup and down the front of Pansy's robes, but she didn't seem to notice and swallowed the rest greedily.

"Better," she said once she'd finished, her voice still hoarse but not nearly as bad as before she'd had the drink. "Glad to know you're good for something, Granger."

"Parkinson…" Draco warned.

"Dragon, don't," Hermione said. "She could've called me far worse, and she didn't."

"Oh, just because I've been through hell and ended up here doesn't mean I've magically changed my views," Pansy said acerbically, raising her head so they could clearly see her eye roll. "I certainly have no desire to be best mates with you lot – I don't even like any of you."

"Then why are you even here?" Ginny demanded. "If you clearly think so highly of us, why bother?" Pansy rolled her eyes again.

"Because I want out, obviously," she said, her expression suggesting she thought they were all idiots for not coming to that conclusion sooner. "I sure as hell don't like any of you, but this option is a far cry better than what I had, so I'll take it."

"And what was that?" Harry asked.

"Later," Mrs. Longbottom cut in. "We'll tell you everything you want to know, but not before these two have had some rest – Miss Parkinson here was half dead when we found her, and Luna's been on the run since Christmas."

"There's plenty of space upstairs," Sirius said, already moving towards the staircase and motioning for the others to follow. "Spare clothes and towels as well, and more than enough hot water."

"Thank you," Mrs. Longbottom said stiffly. "That will do just fine. We'll speak in the morning, then."

"Goodnight," the teenagers chorused, though inwardly they were still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Luna replied in kind, wishing them all sweet dreams in her usual cheerful manner, and though Pansy said nothing, she did manage a stiff nod before she shut her bedroom door with a firm click.

Nobody slept much that night, everyone far too anxious about what had happened and eager to hear what the newcomers had to say. It was nearing three in the morning before Harry, who was the last to fall asleep, finally dropped off, and as a result, everyone was more than a little groggy at breakfast the next morning, which was served rather later than usual. In fact, it wasn't until early afternoon that they had all finally gathered in the front room and were alert enough to hear the details.

"Right, then," Ginny said as she selected a biscuit from the tray laid out on the coffee table. "It's probably best to start at the beginning, wherever that is – Ron, maybe you could tell us what happened last night between when you left and when you came back?"

"Er…well, there really isn't much to tell," Ron said, looking a little uncomfortable at having been singled out so quickly. "Lupin and I did the patrols like we were supposed to, but we didn't see anything odd until we were on our way back, about five streets over from here. That's when we found these three, and we brought them straight back. Really isn't much else to say." He glanced over at Lupin, who confirmed what he'd said with a short nod.

"Did you question them?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering that they hadn't done so last night. Merlin, how could they have been so stupid? They could've let _anyone_ in…

"Yes, Harry, of course we did," Lupin reassured him. "We did so as soon as we encountered them, and their answers to our questions were more than acceptable. Besides, you know as well as I that there is no disguise quite as effective as the Polyjuice Potion, and as these three have been in our continuous company for far longer than an hour, it would have worn off long ago." Properly chastised, Harry nodded and sat back in his chair.

"Perhaps we should share now?" Luna suggested. They all turned to Pansy.

"Why are you all looking at me?" she demanded.

"Well, if we're going chronologically, then you should go first, shouldn't you?" Ginny asked. Pansy shook her head.

"I'm not going first," she said firmly. "Not happening." Harry looked like he was about to protest, but Draco quickly held up a hand to stop him.

"It's fine," he said quietly. "Pansy can share when she's ready." Most of the room's occupants were Gryffindors, and so they'd missed Pansy's subtle cues…but Draco hadn't. Pansy hid them very well, but Draco could play the Slytherin game just as well as, if not better than she, and he could tell that she was uncertain, distrustful, and above all, very, very scared. If the others continued to push her, she'd retreat even further behind a wall of sarcastic bravado and never tell her story at all. No, if they wanted Pansy to talk, they'd have to leave her be for a while.

"I'll go first," Luna said brightly. "Although it is a rather thrilling tale, so I do hope I do it justice."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Ginny said, reaching over to give her friend's hand a squeeze. Luna's smile widened.

"Well, as I'm sure you all know, I was taken from the Hogwarts Express just after the Christmas holidays," Luna began. "It was all rather inconvenient, really – you see, the people who attacked the train weren't really Death Eaters, but Snatchers. I suppose you could say they work for the Death Eaters – I've never heard of them going _after_ the Death Eaters, I mean – but what they're really doing is looking to earn some easy money by capturing prominent members of the resistance. They decided it was time to go after me when Daddy started getting a bit too vocal in his articles for the _Quibbler."_

"I didn't realize your father was still printing," Hermione commented. She was pretty sure she hadn't seen a single copy of the magazine since the article that had gotten Umbridge sacked had gone to press, and that had been two years ago now.

"Oh, he was," Luna reassured her. "But he'd changed what he was printing. He put several pieces about Nargles and former Minister Fudge's dealings with the goblins on hold – not that those aren't important, of course," she added hastily, "but the more recent issues focused mainly on the war, and his views on it. I guess the Death Eaters thought he was being too outwardly supportive of the Light's mission, because next thing I knew, I was in the middle of the woods, alone except for the Snatchers."

"But that was months ago," Ginny said with a frown. "What happened in the interim?"

"I was getting to that," Luna said serenely. "I knew it was best not to fight or run – they took my wand, of course, and they were all quite a bit bigger than I am – so I just went along quietly. At first, they took me to one of their homes and kept me in the basement – it was a bit uncomfortable, and a bit cold, but it was better than that first day we spent out in the snow. I don't think they really knew what to do with me, to be honest – I think they were hoping that if word got out that I'd been taken, Daddy would stop printing. But he didn't, and the Snatchers were a bit put off that they didn't get paid nearly as much as they were expecting – what good is a captive who doesn't get you what you want?"

"But they couldn't just let you go, because that would cause them even more problems," Draco said. Luna nodded.

"Exactly. We were at a bit of a stalemate for about a month, until one of them finally asked me what it would take to make my father crack. So I told him."

"You _what?"_ Harry asked, looking shocked. Luna smiled mischievously.

"I told him," she said. "I told him that if they were to take me directly to my home, _show_ my father that I was indeed a captive, Daddy would be far more likely to cooperate."

"And the Snatcher bought that?" Ginny said with a laugh. "Merlin, that was dumb." Luna smiled again.

"He didn't, actually – not until I told him that we had a Crumple-Horned Snorkack living in our house, and that Daddy was prepared to unleash it if he needed to in order to get me back."

Pansy's mutter of "mental" was the only thing that broke the silence. Nobody really wanted to say that the Snatcher would've had to have been _really_ stupid to believe that, as there was no concrete evidence that Crumple-Horned Snorkacks weren't just a product of Luna's imagination, because Luna really _did_ believe in the creatures, and they didn't want to hurt her feelings. The young witch seemed completely unfazed by the uncomfortable pause, however, and continued as though she hadn't stopped at all.

"Of course, we don't _actually_ have a Crumple-Horned Snorkack at home," Luna said matter-of-factly. "It would be lovely if we did, but that holiday we took to Sweden didn't do us any good, I'm afraid. And of course Crumple-Horned Snorkacks aren't really dangerous in the slightest – they're very sweet and so shy, which is probably why we didn't find any on our trip – but when the Snatcher asked if they were, I might've…stretched the truth a little."

"You lied," Ginny said with a grin. Luna shrugged serenely.

"Make of it what you will," she said. "Now, after hearing that, the Snatchers were determined to take me home, if only to make sure my father couldn't use such a horrible beast against them." She couldn't help but giggle a little at the idea. "So we set off for home – it took us a few days since they'd never been there before and I can't Apparate, but we made it alright, and there Daddy was, hard at work on the next issue and tending to the Dirigible Plums in the front garden." Luna sighed dreamily, her large blue eyes suggesting at least part of her thoughts were elsewhere.

"But…that doesn't explain how you got away," Harry said with a frown. "Was there more to your plan?"

"Oh, yes," Luna said earnestly. "Once we arrived, Daddy of course wanted to know what was going on, and I told him I'd brought the Snatchers to see the Crumple-Horned Snorkack – if I let them see it, I told him, they might consider letting me go. He agreed at once and offered to show them upstairs, but I told him I would be fine on my own."

"Hang on – you just said you _don't_ have one of these things in your house," Pansy cut in. "What the blazes was your father agreeing for when he didn't know what you were doing?" If it was possible, Luna looked a little sad.

"No, you're right – I did say that we don't have a Crumple-Horned Snorkack," she said. "And we don't – not yet, anyway. We did have a large horn on the wall of our sitting room, but it wasn't from a Crumple-Horned Snorkack – how could it be, when it was perfectly straight, nothing crumpled, crinkled, or otherwise crushed about it? It was also far too pointy and far too dangerous – no, a Crumple-Horned Snorkack would never have such a weapon. The horn we had was an Erumpent horn."

"An Erumpent horn?" Hermione gasped. "But those are a Class B-"

"Tradeable Material due to their highly explosive nature?" Luna finished. "Oh, I know. We've had it for a few years now – Daddy's first Crumple-Horned Snorkack mission was a solo one, since I was still a bit young, and he came back with that. I knew what it really was, of course – it didn't match the stories of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks at all, and I'd read _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ enough times to be able to identify all sorts of magical creatures by heart – but you see, Daddy was never quite right after Mum died, and he was so happy when he came back from that trip, that I just didn't have the heart to tell him he was wrong." Luna's brief moment of sadness made a little more sense now.

"So you let him hang it in your sitting room, because of what that moment meant to you," Hermione guessed.

"Yes," Luna said with a sigh. "It was sad to see that moment go, but I did what had to be done."

"Hang on," Draco said suddenly. "You keep talking about this horn in the past tense – why?" Luna grinned.

"Why do you think?" she asked. "I blew it up, of course."

"You _what?"_ the others gasped in near unison. Luna laughed, the sound bell-like and clear.

"I blew it up," she said. "I took the Snatchers upstairs to the sitting room, where the printing press was busy churning out new _Quibblers_ – I was thrilled to see that Daddy had managed to include the article about the Nargles, although it was a bit late as they tend to be most active around the holidays…but of course, you would know that, wouldn't you, Harry?" she said sweetly. Harry blushed, knowing she was referring to his first kiss with Ginny, which had happened under a bit of charmed mistletoe at a D.A. meeting.

"Anyway, Nargles aside, I told them they had to be very quiet so as not to disturb the Crumple-Horned Snorkack – which wasn't really a lie, they _do_ startle easily – and then when they were busy looking around for the supposed monster, I slipped my wand from the nearest Snatcher's pocket and sent a spell towards the Erumpent horn. I'm getting rather good at my nonverbals," she finished almost proudly.

"But…that means you…Luna, you _blew up your house?"_ Hermione said in disbelief.

"I did," Luna confirmed. "A bit unfortunate, of course – I grew up there, and now Daddy's in need of a new printing press – but it worked, and now I'm here. We also lost Daddy's recreation of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, but I think she would've been proud of me – after all, 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure', and I think it was a bit clever, using the Snatchers' ignorance against them."

"Completely mental," Pansy said again.

"A bit clever?" Harry repeated, looking dazed. "Luna, you're bloody _brilliant!"_

"Not at all, really," Luna insisted, though she did look rather pleased.

"What happened to your father?" Hermione asked. "Is he alright?"

"Yes, he's fine, thank you," Luna replied. "I helped him to a nearby safe house – he was rather upset that I couldn't stay, but he understood that I needed to find you all as soon as possible. I ran into Mrs. Longbottom a few days after that – she'd been on the run since about the time I'd first been captured, and as we had similar goals, we decided to stick together. Pansy hasn't been with us for very long, perhaps two weeks."

"And my story isn't yours to tell," Pansy interrupted.

"I wasn't going to," Luna said calmly. "Your story is yours to tell when you're ready." Pansy sighed.

"I know none of you trust me," she said. "You have every reason not to…but I'm not ready to talk. Not to all of you. If you really need to know why I'm here, I'll talk to Draco, but no one else…except maybe you two," she added, gesturing to Luna and Mrs. Longbottom as an afterthought. "I suppose you can hear it too."

"But what if you're-" Ron began.

"I will talk to Draco, or I won't talk at all," Pansy said through clenched teeth. Ron looked as if he were about to protest again, but Ginny quickly elbowed him in the side to shut him up.

"Drop it," she muttered. "It's not worth wasting your breath."

"Listen to your sister, Weasley," Pansy said coolly. "She seems to have half a brain, at least. Now, can we please get this over with?"

"Might as well," Harry said with a shrug. "Do you want us to leave?"

"Seems a bit silly," Draco replied. "There are far more of you – we can go upstairs."

"Are you two coming?" Pansy asked, looking pointedly at Mrs. Longbottom and Luna.

"No, that's alright," Luna answered. "Just because we've spent some time together doesn't make us automatically entitled to hear your story." Pansy chuckled in spite of herself.

"Maybe you belong in Ravenclaw after all, Loony," she said. Without another word, she left the room.

"Drake, are you sure this is a good idea?" Harry asked once Pansy had gone. Draco sighed.

"Look, I know you're worried…but Pansy's absolutely terrified right now," he said. "Of what…well, I don't really know, but we'll never find out if we push her like you and Ron were. I might spend most of my time with all of you, but I am still a Slytherin, and I know that talking to Slytherins the same way you talk to Gryffindors just doesn't work. We need to give her the space she wants, and if that means talking only to me, well, then that's what we have to do."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Hermione said soothingly.

"We'll be alright," Draco replied. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and bent to give Hermione a quick kiss before leaving the room and following Pansy up the stairs.

"Are they done badgering me?" Pansy demanded as soon as he'd entered the guest room where she was staying and shut the door.

"Pansy, stop it," Draco sighed, sinking heavily into a vacant armchair. "They're not trying to badger you on purpose. They just want to know what's going on – and can you really blame them? You're one of the last people we ever expected to turn up here."

"Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Pansy moaned. "Whatever will I do with myself?" She then grew serious and added, "I just don't trust them, Draco."

"It's mutual, Pans," Draco said. "We've never had a reason to trust each other."

"Ah, so you don't trust me either," Pansy said with a slight smirk.

"Not in the slightest," Draco replied, his own smirk far superior to Pansy's. "And unless I'm wrong, the feeling's mutual in that regard as well."

"Of course - you hang around Gryffindors far too much for me to really trust you," Pansy said as if this were obvious. "I just trust you more than I trust them. House allegiance has to count for something."

"You were the one who told me Slytherins look out for their own – although I think Gemma Farley told us that on our very first day at Hogwarts as well." Draco paused. "So are you going to tell me what happened, and more importantly, why you're here?"

"I want out," Pansy said, repeating what she'd told the others the night before. "I…Theo asked me to go with him, the night he let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I didn't know the details, only that he would be leaving the school that night and not returning – 'moving on to bigger and better things', I think is how he put it. At first, I refused – my parents agree with the Dark Lord's goals, but they aren't Death Eaters, and I had no desire to be caught up in the middle of that – but it wasn't long before I realized I'd be the first person questioned once they knew Theo was gone. I activated the Portkey he'd given me just after four in the morning, and it took me to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, just beyond the castle's anti-Apparition wards – I think Theo intended for us to meet in the forest and leave together, so he'd set the Portkey accordingly. It took me almost two weeks to reach his family home; I had to stop and rest for a full four days when I tried to Apparate too far and Splinched myself" – Pansy paused and pulled back her left sleeve, showing Draco the odd bump in her forearm where she'd lost a chunk of flesh and had been unable to heal it properly – "but when I finally arrived, Theo…wasn't himself."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, doing his best to stay calm. No matter his feelings on the situation, Nott had been Pansy's boyfriend at the time, and so Pansy had done what she'd probably thought was right.

"He was…darker," Pansy said thoughtfully, almost as if she wasn't sure it was the right word. "Crueler. He reveled in the torture he was able to perform, and he killed without a second thought."

"I don't think he'd actually changed all that much, if that's what you mean," Draco said darkly. "He did murder Dumbledore in cold blood, you know."

"Don't-"

 _"No,_ Pansy! I saw it happen, I was _there_ when Nott cast the Killing Curse! You can fob everything else off all you like, but that is one thing you _cannot_ deny." Draco's tone was sharp enough, bitter enough that Pansy knew not to argue.

"I…yes," she said finally. "He did. I didn't know that's what he'd planned to do, not until I'd arrived at the Nott estate – and to be honest, if he _had_ told me while we were still at Hogwarts, I wouldn't have believed him. Theo was a lot of things, but he wasn't a murderer…but it only took me a few days to realize that he really was capable of all of it." She paused again and looked up at him through her dark lashes, her eyes wide and frightened.

"I watched him kill, torture, and so much worse," she all but whispered. "The Cruciatus Curse, thrown around like it was nothing more than a Levitating Charm – he'd use it for _hours_ , and the victims' screams kept echoing long after he'd stopped. The youngest girl wasn't even Hogwarts age – maybe eight? Slicing Hexes, cursed knives…it never stopped."

"Did you ever…"

"No." Pansy shook her head. "A proper pureblood woman doesn't participate in such things, and so I was never expected to. But that doesn't mean I didn't still watch a lot of it, or hear it."

"But how did you end up here, then?" Draco asked.

"Theo wanted me to become a Death Eater," Pansy said quietly. "I missed his initiation, but he showed off his Mark every chance he got, so I knew he had one. And he wanted me to have one, too – except I didn't want that. I told you already, no one in my family is a Death Eater, and after witnessing everything I had, I had no desire to join up, either. And Theo…you say he couldn't have changed much, but I say he did, because he wasn't Theo anymore, not even to me. The boy I'd known was gone, and in his place…but I couldn't just leave in broad daylight, so I had to plan. I finally left in the middle of the night – I don't even know when it was, to be honest; the days had all blurred together by then. I took what little I'd brought with me and fled the house. I didn't even really know where I was going – at that point, I didn't really want to go to the Order specifically, just somewhere that was better than where I was. I'd already ruled out Hogwarts, so I decided London was the next best idea – if nothing else, Diagon Alley is there, so I'd probably be able to…I don't even know what my thinking was."

"So you headed for London," Draco prompted.

"Yeah. Except it was a lot harder than I'd thought it would be – London is huge, and of course I had no idea how to get to the Leaky Cauldron on my own, so I've been aimlessly wandering around the city for a while now. Hanging out in filthy Muggle bars, trying to glean any snatch of information I could – which was next to nothing, in the end, except that Muggle cigarettes are strangely calming when you're panicking and need to think." Draco wrinkled his nose.

"So that explains why you smelled like you did when you showed up last night," he said dryly. Pansy huffed.

"I've put up with a lot of shit since last June, Draco," she snapped. "Don't begrudge me the one thing that actually helped a little."

"Whatever – just don't expect me to join you," he said flatly. "So how did you meet up with Luna and Mrs. Longbottom?"

"Ran into them a little while ago – three days? A week? Two? I really don't know. Whatever Lovegood told you earlier is probably right." Pansy shrugged. "I really didn't want to go with them, but as I was essentially delirious and starving by that point, they didn't really give me a choice."

"They're good people, Pans," Draco said quietly.

"That doesn't mean I want to be here!" Pansy hissed. "Don't you realize what this looks like?"

"Seriously, Pansy? You show up here half-dead and you're worried about your bloody reputation? I think that went down the tubes ages ago when you decided to follow Dumbledore's murderer, don't you?" Pansy's angry expression dissipated, and she sighed.

"You're right – I don't have a reputation anymore," she said bitterly. "I've lost my friends, I've lost my boyfriend, and now, by coming here, I've lost myself. I don't have anything left to lose." Draco leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs as he pressed his fingers into his temples. He then left the chair entirely and moved to sit next to Pansy on the bed.

"I'm never going to be who you want me to be," he said. "That person was Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy's been gone for over ten years now. And I think I'd be lying if I said you hadn't gotten with Nott, and by extension into this whole situation, in the first place at least partially because of me. But that doesn't mean I can't help you now. You don't have to join the Order to want Riddle gone, and you don't have to be in Gryffindor to be accepted here. Slytherins look out for their own, yes, but out here, we're not Slytherins – we're Hogwarts students, all of us, and we all look out for each other, because we all want the same thing."

"And now you're sounding dangerously like a Hufflepuff," Pansy said, the hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"I know some perfectly wonderful Hufflepuffs, my cousin included," Draco replied. "But I hardly ever think of them as such, because out here, house affiliations aren't what's important." He reached over and nudged Pansy's chin with his finger, gently tipping it upwards so she'd meet his gaze.

"Everyone in this house is willing to help you, Pansy," he said quietly. "You just have to give them a chance." Pansy bit her lip and nodded.

"It's just…hard," she confessed, finally sounding like the scared teenage girl she was rather than the haughty pureblood princess she was always trying to be. "I've never given them a reason to do so before."

"Give them a chance," Draco repeated. "They just might surprise you." Pansy nodded again and took hold of the hand under her chin, bringing their entwined fingers down to rest on the bedcovers and holding on tight.

"Thank you, Draco," she said softly. "I…thank you. I can't promise you that it'll work – I told you before that my views haven't changed entirely – but…I'll try. I'll try."

* * *

 **A/N: So this very quickly turned into a monster of a chapter...but I rather like Luna's story, don't you? It's so her...( & I do find her very hard to write, so just like Luna herself, I hope I did her tale justice!) & what of Pansy's confession - what role does she have yet to play? Hmm...**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! I love hearing from you guys.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	19. The Last Two Horcruxes

The atmosphere in the house was a little tense for a few days, the younger residents especially unsure of how to deal with one another, but the unease gradually lessened over the course of the week as they settled into a routine. The Gryffindors and Draco had a lot to think about after their conversations with Luna and Pansy, and they didn't have any spare time to waste worrying about petty rivalries. Pansy hardly spoke to anyone aside from Draco and occasionally her former traveling companions, but as this was to be expected – after all, Pansy hadn't yet had time to build trust in anyone else – they left her alone. Surprisingly, she found herself caught up in quite a few conversations with Ron – granted, these were usually heated sparring matches as they battled it out on the chessboard, but it was a start. Pansy was an excellent chess player, and the others suspected Ron was too shocked at actually having a worthy opponent to worry about Pansy's attitude or prejudices. These chess games suited the trio just fine, as it left them free to discuss everything they still had yet to accomplish before a final confrontation could take place. Pansy was also regaining her confidence now that she'd cleaned up and had a proper haircut, and while her occasional spouting of rude slurs was annoying, it meant she was coming out of her shell, and so they took it as a good sign.

Whatever calm they'd managed to restore, however, shattered to pieces on the last night of the Easter holidays. The permanent residents of the house, plus Molly, Ron, and Ginny, had just finished dinner when the Floo roared to life and Lupin tumbled out of the fireplace, looking flustered and more than a bit dazed.

"Remus!" Mrs. Weasley cried, leaping to her feet and helping the younger man stand. "Are you alright? It's not like you to-"

"Tonks had the baby," Lupin blurted out, and Mrs. Weasley immediately fell silent. "A little early, yes, but he's healthy and – well, I guess that gives it away, but it's a boy, and-"

"You're a dad!" Sirius gasped, sounding awestruck. "Moony, you're a dad!" Lupin stopped his rambling and grinned.

"Yeah…yeah, I suppose I am," he said. Sirius returned the grin and moved forward to clap Lupin on the back.

"Congratulations, mate!" The two men embraced, and the teenagers all left the table to join in.

"What's his name?"

"How's Tonks doing?"

"When was he born?"

"What does he look like?"

"Enough!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, though her tone was warm. "Let the poor man breathe!" The others obligingly stepped back, watching as Lupin, who couldn't seem to get rid of his silly grin, raked a hand through his extremely disheveled hair.

"He was born earlier this afternoon – Tonks is resting with him now, and she insisted I take the time to come pass on the news," he said. "They're at her parents', of course – I don't know what we would have done without Andromeda, she was cool as anything the entire time, even while Tonks was shouting at me and I was panicking." Lupin paused to smile sheepishly. "Anyway, he's a bit small as he was born early, but the Healer said he's perfectly healthy, and Tonks is doing well."

"What's his name?" Ginny asked again, her expression eager. Lupin smiled.

"Edward Remus Lupin – we'll call him Teddy," he said. "Oh – and I've got a picture, look!" He pulled a photograph from his pocket and held it up so they could see. Just visible inside the soft yellow blanket Mrs. Weasley had knitted was a baby with pudgy cheeks and a tuft of bright blue hair.

"It seems he's inherited his mum's talents," Harry said with a grin.

"He has," Lupin agreed. "His hair must've changed color twenty times in the first hour – it was purple when I left, and I'm sure it'll be orange or green or something else entirely when I return. Andromeda said Tonks was the same way when she was born, and it took nearly a week for her to settle down and stick to one color for more than a few hours."

"He's beautiful," Hermione cooed as she took her turn examining the photograph. "Such a little sweetheart – I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you, Hermione," Lupin said warmly. With a glance at the clock, he added, "I'd best be getting back – I promised Andromeda I wouldn't be gone long." He accepted his photograph from Hermione and tucked it carefully back into his pocket. "I'll keep you all updated." Well wishes echoed around the room as Lupin tossed in a bit of Floo powder and whirled away.

"Teddy's so sweet!" Ginny sighed as they settled back down for dessert.

"He is quite darling, isn't he?" Luna agreed. She accepted her slice of pie with thanks and took a bite, nodding appreciatively at the taste. "What do you think, Pansy?" The Slytherin girl looked up, clearly startled to have been included in the conversation.

"Erm…well, I don't really have anything to compare him to," she said slowly. "But I guess he's cute." Luna smiled warmly and nodded, wordlessly indicating that Pansy's response was a perfectly acceptable one, and Pansy relaxed a little.

"I'll admit I'm a bit worried," Mrs. Weasley said, a small frown marring her features as she took her seat. "To have to worry about an infant in the middle of a war…"

"I'm sure they'll be fine, Molly," Sirius reassured her. "They do have Tonks' parents, as well as all of the Hogwarts students staying with them, to help."

"I know they do," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "It's just…it makes you think. We know all too well that even children aren't safe in today's climes, and it just…well, it makes me wonder if sending you two back to the castle tomorrow is the best thing," she finished with a glance at Ron and Ginny.

"You're not going to let us go back to Hogwarts?" Ron asked in shock.

"Mum, you can't!" Ginny protested.

"And why not?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply. "You've been telling us all week how horrible those Carrows are, Ginny – Hogwarts isn't safe! Pansy's made it quite clear that even the lowest ranking Death Eaters will do anything to make their master happy – they've already gone after Luna and Neville; I won't let them get you as well!"

"But that's just it, Mum!" Ginny cried. "Luna obviously can't go anywhere, and Neville's all but trapped in the Room of Requirement – there's no one else left! I'm the only senior member of the DA-"

"A student organization!" Mrs. Weasley retorted. "The premise of which is all well and good, but that doesn't change the fact that these people are utterly ruthless, and you're not even of age!"

"And yet there are people twice my age who've done _nothing!"_ Ginny replied fiercely, her brown eyes now shining with unshed tears. "I killed a basilisk when I was eleven, I managed alright when Kings Cross was attacked when I was fourteen, and this war has affected me and my loved ones for longer than I've even been alive! Mum, the professors can only do so much to help protect the students because they know they'll be sacked or tortured themselves if they go too far, and I'm far too invested to sit back and do nothing – I _have_ to do what I can to help!"

"Ginevra-"

"Molly, you have to let her go," Mrs. Longbottom chimed in suddenly. They all turned and stared at her – aside from that first night, the older woman had hardly spoken at all since her arrival at Grimmauld Place.

"Excuse me, Augusta?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking confused.

"You have to let them go," Mrs. Longbottom repeated. "Has it not occurred to you that you'll actually make it worse if you keep them here? There's no denying that Hogwarts isn't safe at the moment, but it's still home to powerful people who are on our side – Filius, Minerva, and the others _will_ stop the Carrows before they go too far, you can be sure of that. Your daughter is right – they've already taken down the other prominent members of Dumbledore's Army. What do you think they'd do if your children didn't return? Your family is already in a precarious position – your husband and son work in the Death Eater-controlled Ministry, the latter possibly with no way out, while two of your other sons run a highly noticeable business right in the middle of Diagon Alley. You've already lost your home – if Ron and Ginny don't return to Hogwarts, what's to stop the Death Eaters from targeting another member of your family in order to find them? And you know they will – your family is too much of a target to let their failure to return go unacknowledged."

Everyone was silent for a moment as they processed Mrs. Longbottom's words. Her point was a valid one, and she, unfortunately, had the experience to back it up – her son and his wife, Neville's parents, had been Aurors and highly-ranking members of the first Order of the Phoenix, and they'd been tortured into insanity when the Death Eaters had finally caught up to them. Neville had been very lucky so far to avoid a similarly horrible fate, and they knew that it was only a matter of time before the Carrows attempted to go after Ginny as well – if Ginny didn't return to the castle, however, and therefore robbed the Carrows of that opportunity, the resulting manhunt would be merciless.

"I…I see your point," Mrs. Weasley concede after a long pause. "I don't like the idea one bit, but I suppose you're right, Augusta – in which case, Ron and Ginny, you'd best get packing. Your things are scattered all over two houses now, and your Portkey won't wait for you in the morning." Ginny immediately ran forward and hugged her mother tightly, a few traitorous tears spilling over and running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Mum," she said softly. "I'm sorry for arguing – but I can't sit back and do nothing, I just can't. If I could do something to make it easier for you, I would." Mrs. Weasley smiled at her daughter and wiped away the tears.

"I know you would, dearest – and you wouldn't be my daughter if you were content to sit back and watch while those you loved were on the front lines. It's a Prewett trait just as much as a Weasley one."

"She's made it this far, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "And the DA might be struggling, but there are still a few helping out – Ginny will be fine."

"I know." Mrs. Weasley let go of her youngest and swatted her gently. "Off with you – those trunks aren't going to pack themselves, you know!"

* * *

As was usually the case whenever the Weasleys left, the house was much quieter once Ron and Ginny had gone back to Hogwarts. Ginny had promised to keep in touch via the DA Galleons and did so faithfully, sending as many updates as she could fit within the coin's limited spacing. The Carrows, it seemed, were still torturing students in class and in detention, but the situation hadn't gotten any worse, and that, at least, was a little bit of a silver lining. Harry wished he could have his girlfriend say hello to their other friends, especially Blaise and Tracey, who'd been keeping the younger Slytherin students out of harm's way as much as they could, but he knew it wasn't possible. Nobody was supposed to know where he, Draco, and Hermione were, and so communication had to be kept to a minimum for safety's sake.

The teenagers' conversations often revolved around the war effort, especially what remained to be done. Harry, Draco, and Hermione had decided against telling Luna and Pansy the specifics about what Horcruxes were unless it was absolutely necessary, but they did decide it was safe to say they were searching for important artifacts that needed to be destroyed before Voldemort could be brought down for good.

"We think there are six, and we've already gotten rid of four – a diary that belonged to Riddle during his school days, a ring passed down through his mother's family, a locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and a cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff," Harry explained as they lounged around the front room one night after dinner.

"You _destroyed_ something that belonged to Slytherin himself?" Pansy choked out, sounding aghast. Draco shook his head.

"Not really, Pansy – well, we did, but Riddle had already ruined it beyond even magical repair," he said. "That locket was never going to be the same again, and neither were any of the other three objects. The magic Riddle used is Dark enough that only a handful of substances can truly counteract it, including basilisk venom and Fiendfyre." Pansy whistled lowly.

"He's not messing around, is he?" she said. "Basilisk venom and Fiendfyre…"

"Whatever he did to them must've been truly awful," Luna commented.

"It was," Harry agreed. "I'm sorry we can't tell you all the details, but-"

"No, it's alright," Luna cut in. "I understand. Occluding the mind is notoriously difficult magic for those who haven't studied it – if we were to be captured and questioned, we'd be a liability. But Riddle is arrogant enough that the other Death Eaters wouldn't necessarily understand the significance of information regarding one of these objects unless they were to ask, and Riddle doesn't seem the type to appreciate questions. An image of a locket or a cup would mean very little, but the knowledge of what it really was would be another matter."

"I…yeah," Harry stammered. Once again, he was shocked by Luna's perceptiveness and intuition – he'd never once told the blonde girl that he and the others had studied Occlumency, and yet she'd somehow managed to hit the nail right on the head yet again.

"Details aside, you're still on the hunt for two more objects," Pansy interrupted, bringing them back to the discussion at hand. "That's easy, isn't it? He included things linked to Slytherin and Hufflepuff, so you need something from the other two founders."

"It's not that simple, unfortunately," Hermione said. "You see, only two of Godric Gryffindor's possessions are still around today, and we've already come into contact with both – one is the school Sorting Hat, and the other is a sword. Neither are what we're looking for."

"And how do you know that?" Pansy demanded. Hermione looked thoughtful as she considered how to explain.

"These objects are…evil," she decided. "You can tell just by being in the same room as one that it's been altered, and not in a good way." Pansy nodded.

"Alright, I'll give you that – I spent enough time around Dark artifacts in Nott's house to understand what you mean," she said. "I think somebody would've noticed by now if something was off with the Sorting Hat. But what about this sword?"

"To make a _very_ long story short, Ginny pulled it out of the Sorting Hat in the Chamber of Secrets and killed the basilisk with it," Harry said. "We got the fangs we've been using on these objects from the dead basilisk, actually. We have no idea where the sword was before that, but Dumbledore did mention that only a true Gryffindor could have pulled it from the hat."

"Of course you'd be carrying around basilisk fangs," Pansy muttered, barely refraining from rolling her eyes. "Your ever-so-wonderful house's heroics aside, where's the sword now?"

"We don't know," Draco admitted. "Dumbledore left it to Harry in his will, but the Ministry decreed it wasn't his to give away, so Harry never received it. Dumbledore probably hid it somewhere he thought was clever, but we haven't the foggiest idea where that might be. And it was on display in his office in the entire interim."

"Dumbledore left you a sword," Pansy said flatly. "Merlin, can you do no wrong, Potter? If it's not an…object, then what's so important about it that you had to have it?"

"Again, we don't really know," Harry said, but Hermione suddenly gasped.

"Of course!" she said. "It's a goblin-made blade, isn't it?" The others merely stared at her.

"Granger, not all of us are so brilliant," Pansy said sardonically. "Mind explaining?" Hermione blushed.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just…when we first came back here, my dad was showing me the research he and Sirius had done, some of which was on the sword. They hadn't found much on the sword itself, and so they'd moved on to researching goblin-made objects in general. Goblin-made metal is virtually indestructible and only takes in that which makes it stronger – that's why Fleur's wedding tiara didn't need polishing, because it's incapable of rusting even though it's made of silver. But if goblin-made objects can take in – or absorb, if you will – something that will make them stronger, and Ginny used that sword to kill the basilisk, I'll bet the sword absorbed some of the venom. A venom-infused sword would qualify as more powerful than a regular one, would it not?"

"And that would explain why Dumbledore would want us to have it, because basilisk venom is one of the few substances that can destroy Hor…these objects," Harry finished in understanding.

"Well, that's a bit anticlimactic," Pansy commented dryly. "You said you've been offing these things with basilisk fangs, so you don't even need the sword."

"At least we know what it's good for, and it still would be good to find it if we can," Harry replied. "We only have so many fangs left, and getting more is no picnic."

"Whatever. So we've dismissed Gryffindor. What about Ravenclaw, then?"

"Ravenclaw's life isn't very well documented," Hermione explained. "The only well-known artifact of hers is a diadem, and it hasn't been seen in centuries, not since her daughter stole it."

"Her daughter stole it?" Pansy asked. "Why? What would her daughter want with a…what is a diadem, anyway?"

"It's a crown – a tiara," Luna said. "Ravenclaw's was infused with the power to enhance the wearer's wisdom. The tales say it was very beautiful, delicately crafted of silver and inlaid with sapphires. Ravenclaw's daughter had always been jealous of her mother's abilities and stole the diadem in the hopes of surpassing that cleverness."

"Helena – that's her daughter – is apparently the Ravenclaw house ghost, but McGonagall warned us that asking her about it might not be a good idea," Harry added. "Shame – if we could only just ask her what it looked like, it might help."

"I'd be happy to try, if you like," Luna offered. "She's always willing to talk to Ravenclaws, at least."

"We don't need to," Hermione said quietly, her eyes wide with realization. "We've already seen it – touched it, even." The others all looked at her in shock.

"Lotte, what are you on about?" Draco asked. "You just said yourself the diadem hasn't been seen since-"

"Since Helena stole it," Hermione finished. "I know…but we've seen it. It's in the Room of Requirement."

 _"What?"_ Harry asked. "Maya, what are you-"

"Earlier this year, we accidentally ended up in a huge room full of junk when we were hoping for our training room, do you remember?" Hermione said. "It was where we found the Vanishing Cabinet. And we explored the room and found all sorts of things – old books, broken broomsticks, rusty cauldrons…"

"And a tiara," Draco added in a whisper. "One of you girls did find a tiara, didn't you…"

"And it fits Luna's description, I know it does," Hermione continued.

"But how did it end up in there?" Harry asked. "One thing doesn't make sense – if Helena was so hell-bent on stealing the thing, why would she just chuck it away in some glorified rubbish bin right inside the castle?"

"Because I don't think she was the one who put it there," Hermione said. "We've never bothered to find out the name of the Ravenclaw house ghost before now, but it's not exactly a difficult thing to do – I'm sure Luna's known her name for years."

"Since my very first day," Luna said, nodding in agreement. "Our prefects made sure we knew who she was and that we could always count on her to help Ravenclaws in need."

"See? Plenty of students know who she is – so is it so odd to think that perhaps Riddle might've talked to her when he was a student? We know from the memories Dumbledore showed us that Riddle's always been good at sweet-talking his way into whatever he wants – is it possible he convinced Helena to give up the location of the diadem?"

"But even if he did, when would he have brought it back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "We know he…created most of these objects after he'd already left school."

"But he did come back at least once," Draco pointed out. "He came back to try to convince Dumbledore to give him a teaching job, remember? He could've easily hidden the diadem that very night."

"You're throwing around far too much information that makes no sense," Pansy complained. "But what little I understood, I get it. You have no other leads on Ravenclaw, so you might as well check this one out."

"Which will be difficult, as we'd have to get into Hogwarts unnoticed, and Neville's currently living in another version of the Room," Hermione pointed out. "We can't just ask him to leave when the Carrows are after his blood, so we'll have to plan it carefully."

"And the last one?" Pansy pressed. "What's the last object?"

"I have no idea," Harry admitted. Pansy sighed heavily.

"Well, hurry up and figure it out, Potter," she said impatiently. "Some of us would like to see old Snakeface gone sooner rather than later." Harry snickered at the name, but Draco looked thoughtful.

"Snake…is it possible the snake is the last one?" he asked.

"The snake?"

"Yeah – the one that attacked Mr. Weasley, killed Bathilda Bagshot, fought with Padfoot? We'd mentioned before that we thought there was something odd about it, and Padfoot said its blood tasted like poison when he bit the snake in his dog form."

"I suppose," Hermione said slowly. "You're not really supposed to use living creatures, but I guess if he were looking to round out the seven and didn't have any other options…"

"And on that note, I'm going to bed," Pansy said abruptly. "You three aren't making sense anymore, and I've had more than enough talk about supercharged snakes for one day."

"Don't like snakes, Pansy?" Harry asked, sounding amused. "What would Salazar Slytherin say?"

"They can move without any legs – it's not natural," Pansy insisted. Draco snorted.

"Could be worse," he said. "Remember Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts?"

Pansy hit him over the head with a throw pillow.

* * *

 **A/N: We're making progress, folks - it's almost time for the final battle! Dun dun dun...**

 **Thank you, as always, for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	20. Out of Time

The next few weeks were fairly quiet. Ginny continued to send messages from Hogwarts – things were still holding steady – and aside from the occasional visit from an Order member, the teenagers were left to their own devices. They spent most of their time in the library or the front room, making plans. While the Horcrux discussions had essentially fallen flat after that first conversation involving Luna and Pansy – no one had been able to come up with better alternatives for the final two Horcruxes' identities, and they'd quickly dropped the subject when they realized how pointless it was to keep talking in circles – they had a feeling that the final confrontation was coming sooner rather than later, and so they planned. Not even Pansy knew where Voldemort himself was currently stationed, which would make drawing him out when the time came rather interesting, but they did know that the final battle had to take place at Hogwarts, as dictated by the prophecy, and that was a start. With the aid of the Marauder's Map (and two of its creators), the teenagers were able to begin a list of strategic defensive locations throughout the castle as well as numerous advantageous offensive positions. The Order and their allies would have a hell of a time defending the enormous building, but they were hoping that the wards surrounding the castle – as well as the magic of the castle itself, once they activated the rings – would help. They weren't naïve enough, however, to believe that the wards would never fall, and they wanted to be as prepared as possible for when the fighting began.

One night near the end of April, Draco sat sprawled in an armchair, absentmindedly flicking through the book on his lap without actually reading it. He and the others had enjoyed a rare break from all the war talk when Lupin and Tonks had come to visit earlier that afternoon, baby Teddy in tow. It had been the first time any of them had seen the infant in person, and his sweet innocence had brought a much-needed reprieve from the constant stress and anxiety. The little family hadn't stayed long, departing shortly after dinner, but those few hours had been just what they'd needed, and they were all in much brighter spirits for it. Inspired by the visit, they'd decided to take the rest of the night off and were currently lounging all over the front room. Hermione was curled up on the sofa, her legs tucked under her and a book in her hands, smiling every now and then as she read, Pansy and Harry were playing Snap, and Luna was laying on her stomach near Draco's feet, sketching something on a spare bit of parchment. Upon closer inspection, Draco saw that it was a woman with long, flowing hair and a delicate circlet perched atop her head – Rowena Ravenclaw. So few images of the founders existed that Draco had no idea if the likeness was any good, but he had to admit that Luna was quite the artist nevertheless. She hummed to herself as she worked, glancing up and smiling softly as she caught Draco's eye.

"Your drawing – it's very well done," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the others too much. Luna's smile widened.

"Thank you. I based it on the statue in our common room, as well as her daughter, of course."

"There's a statue of Ravenclaw in your common room?" Draco asked, interested. He shut his book and set it aside. Luna nodded.

"Yes – she stands just between the two entrances to the dormitory staircases," she explained. "She reminds me a bit of Professor McGonagall, actually – a bit stern looking, but knowledgeable and somehow approachable at the same time. And she's wearing the diadem, of course." Luna pointed a little unnecessarily at the object in question. "It's rather a shame what Riddle did to it – nobody's really been able to study it much, you know."

"It is a shame," Draco agreed quietly. The Horcruxes were important historical artifacts, but Wizarding Britain would never be able to see them as such when the only option was to destroy them beyond repair.

"Their legacies will continue on regardless," Luna said wisely. "Hogwarts herself is proof of that, don't you think?"

Draco nodded as he considered Luna's words. Too many people wrote her off immediately because of her beliefs in the impossible, but she really was an intelligent young woman, wise beyond her years and more perceptive than anyone else Draco had ever met. She'd gone to Ravenclaw for a reason, and it showed in every conversation they shared.

 _Ravenclaw_ …

Draco suddenly sat bolt upright, his gasp of realization not going unnoticed. Of course – why had they never considered it before?

"Everything alright, Dragon?" Hermione asked, marking her place and looking at him curiously.

"Yes, everything's fine," he said quickly, wanting to reassure them. "I was just thinking, that's all."

"About?"

"The founders' rings."

"I'd forgotten about those," Harry admitted, frowning slightly. "We still have two unassigned rings."

"I think I could make a pretty convincing argument for one of them," Draco replied, smiling slightly. His eyes flickered towards Luna, who was still lounging on the floor. Harry missed the gesture, but Hermione didn't.

"Of course," she breathed, a smile of her own gracing her features as she caught on. "Why didn't we think of it before?"

"Would somebody mind explaining what the hell is going on?" Pansy grumbled. "All these half-conversations you three have are annoying."

"Sorry, Pans," Draco replied. They'd been getting better at it, but after spending so much time on their own, he, Harry, and Hermione still did have a tendency to leave things out when they talked, simply because they all already knew the subject matter intimately. Luna and Pansy, however, didn't have that luxury, and the trio occasionally forgot that they had to be mindful of their speech when others were around.

"The Legend of the Founders' Rings is connected to Hogwarts and involves the four founders," he explained for the girls' benefit. "Together, they created a set of four rings that, when worn by the right people, channel the magic of Hogwarts herself."

"What do you mean, the 'right' people?" Pansy asked.

"Each ring must be worn by someone who personifies the prized traits of that particular Hogwarts house," Draco said. "The prophecy has further requirements, but that's the start of it." They had already discussed the prophecy while forming their battle plans, so there was no need for him to elaborate on that particular subject.

"We already know who needs to wear two of the rings, and Draco suspects he's found our third as well," Hermione said. "Dragon, why don't you go get the box?"

"Certainly." Draco hopped up from his seat and hurried from the room. They could hear his footsteps ascending the staircase, and then descending again a few minutes later just before he reappeared in the doorway, box in hand.

"Summoning Charm doesn't work on it – not sure if that's due to the box itself or its current contents," he explained. He carefully placed the box on the coffee table and opened it. Luna breathed a quiet 'Oh' of appreciation when she saw the contents, but Pansy looked skeptical.

 _"Those_ are the founders' rings?" she asked doubtfully. "But they look like cheap rubbish."

"They do now," Draco acknowledged. "But does this look any better?" He reached across the table for Hermione's hand and picked up the Slytherin ring, sliding it onto her finger. As he knew it would, the ring's disguise fell away to reveal the gleaming emerald and platinum band beneath. Hermione reciprocated the action with the Gryffindor ring, the ruby and gold sparkling in the firelight.

"I…yes, that does look better," Pansy said, unable to hide her shock.

"So which of the two remaining rings were you talking about, Drake?" Harry asked.

"This one, of course." Draco deftly removed the Ravenclaw ring from the box and flicked it upwards like a coin. He caught it easily as it fell and smoothly held out his hand to Luna. "Care to do the honors, Miss Lovegood?" Luna merely smiled and accepted the offered ring, slipping it onto her finger.

"And there you have it," Draco said almost smugly as the ring changed. As none of them were metal experts, they weren't quite sure if the outer portion of the ring was made of copper or bronze, but the blue strip in the middle was definitely a sapphire, polished to perfection just like its fellows.

"It's lovely," Luna said admiringly as she moved her hand so the gem could twinkle in the light. "You really think I'm worthy of it?"

"Absolutely," Hermione insisted. "No one is more of a Ravenclaw than you, Luna."

"Thank you, Hermione," the blonde girl said sincerely. "I'm truly honored. I will do my best to make my house proud."

"And how do you plan to do that if you don't have someone to wear the last ring?" Pansy asked.

"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem," Luna said sweetly. "I'd imagine our last representative will make himself known when the time is right."

As they replaced the rings back in their box for safekeeping, Draco couldn't help but contemplate Luna's reply. He'd only told her the bare bones of the legend and how it connected to the prophecy, and yet her answer to Pansy's question suggested that she perhaps suspected, or even knew, something the rest of them didn't.

* * *

Time continued to creep slowly by, and the teenagers continued their planning. Certain things couldn't really be discussed without a decent estimate of how many fighters they could expect, but they had a fairly comprehensive list of places around the castle and grounds that would need special attention, and they also had a full evacuation plan outlined for the younger students. Hermione suggested a side trip to the Chamber of Secrets for more basilisk fangs – they only had a few left, and if the snake really was one of the Horcruxes, there was no guarantee that one fang would suffice – and of course, an excursion into the Room of Hidden Things was necessary as well. As they worked, they made sure to write to Peter and Eloise, keeping their friends informed and updated.

The only two remaining mysteries involved the Hufflepuff ring and the Deathly Hallows. Harry was firmly convinced that the Hallows were the 'three' mentioned in the prophecy, but if that was the case, they still only had one: the cloak. The whereabouts of the wand and the stone remained unknown, and time was running out. If Ollivander and Gregorovitch's disappearances were anything to go by, Voldemort could very well be pursuing the wand – whether he knew it to be a Hallow was both uncertain and irrelevant; if he found it first, they weren't sure what they'd do.

* * *

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry sat bolt upright. He was drenched in sweat, his pajamas sticking to him all over, and he was shaking profusely. The alarm clock on his bedside table told him it was just after four in the morning on the first of May.

"Harry, what's wrong? What happened?" a familiar female voice demanded. Harry fumbled around for his glasses and put them on, finally noticing Hermione and Draco seated on either side of him. He'd no sooner acknowledged this than his door burst open, revealing Pansy, Luna, and Sirius.

"Harry, what happened?" Sirius demanded, echoing Hermione's earlier question. Harry reached up and rubbed his scar, which was throbbing painfully.

"He got there first," he said, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Who got where first?" Sirius pressed. He quickly conjured up a bowl and a washcloth, filled the bowl with water, dipped the cloth in and pressed it to Harry's forehead.

"Riddle," Harry said. "The wand – buried with Dumbledore…" He trailed off, but Hermione and Draco needed no further explanation. They turned to look at one another, identical expressions of horror on their faces.

"He's at Hogwarts," Hermione breathed, the sound almost a whimper.

"He is," Harry confirmed. He was as white as a sheet; the others couldn't remember when they'd last seen him so pale. "I dunno if he's staying, but we're out of time."

"Even if he isn't staying, we have to move now," Draco said firmly. "There's no telling what he'll do now that he has the wand."

"For Salazar's sake, would it be so difficult for you to explain yourselves properly for once?" Pansy snapped. "And I thought you hated it when Dumbledore kept things vague, Potter." Harry made to protest, but Draco held up a hand to silence him.

"She's right," he said quietly. "We have to trust in each other if this is going to work." Harry sighed.

"You're right," he admitted. He turned to Pansy. "Sorry, Parkinson. You're…you're right." Pansy raised her eyebrows.

"There's something I never thought I'd hear you say," she grumbled.

"Pansy, shut it," Draco said sharply. "You want to know what's going on, so drop the attitude and listen." Pansy stared at him for a moment before she finally sighed and dropped into an empty chair.

"Fine," she said tonelessly. "Go ahead, Potter." Luna took a seat on the floor by her chair while Sirius perched on the edge of the bed, wet washcloth still in hand.

"A few months ago, there was an…accident with one of the objects," Harry said, carefully considering his words so as to explain things sufficiently without dropping any keywords. "When we stabbed Hufflepuff's cup, it backfired somehow and exploded, and I got this" – he paused and tapped his still aching scar – "in the process. Ever since, I've been…well, there's not really a better way to explain it than I've been able to see and hear Riddle's thoughts. I can tell when he's especially pleased or especially angry, and I've seen some of his actions as well – people being tortured for displeasing him, for instance." Hermione surreptitiously scooted closer to Draco and grabbed his hand. They both remembered Harry's terrifying fits in their guest suite all too well.

"I had another vision just now," Harry continued, slightly shocked that no one had interrupted him yet, but grateful all the same – it'd be much easier to get it all out in one breath. "I don't know how he did it, but he figured out that Dumbledore was the last owner of the elder wand, and he just now broke into Dumbledore's tomb and stole it. Riddle has just claimed the most powerful wand in the world as his own." Sirius swore under his breath.

"We really are out of time, aren't we?" he muttered, wringing excess water out of the cloth now that Harry was no longer in danger of fainting. Pansy frowned and cocked her head contemplatively as she studied Harry closely.

"What exactly happened with that cup, Potter?" she asked. "Are you sure you actually destroyed it?" It was Harry's turn to frown.

"What do you mean? It did everything the other objects did – screamed, and ended up rather mangled," he said. Pansy shook her head.

"But that's not all it did," she insisted. "I don't think the backfiring, you-ending-up-scarred bit was an unfortunate coincidence, Potter, especially not when it made you mind buddies with the wizard who enchanted it in the first place. He did something to it – something else happened, and you know it. What was it?"

The others glanced around uncomfortably at Pansy's question. Of course they'd considered it before – how could they not? – but hearing someone else voice it so bluntly was distressing, especially because they really didn't have an answer to that question. They'd gone through every book that even so much as hinted at curse scars, researching Harry's odd affliction as fervently as the Horcruxes, and yet they'd found nothing.

"You don't know, do you?" Pansy asked softly after a moment. Hermione looked up, her eyes wide and fearful, and slowly shook her head.

"No," she admitted, her voice little more than a whisper. "We have no idea."

"I think we should get back to the matter of the vision itself," Sirius said quickly, more to ease the rising tension than anything else. It didn't really work – after all, the thought of the final battle was hardly a relaxing one – but it did get the teenagers' minds off Harry's predicament for the time being.

"We need to alert the Order and get ourselves to Hogwarts," Harry replied. "Riddle already has the wand, and even if he plans to leave the school alone for the time being, we can't let him keep it. If the tales are to be believed, that wand is capable of channeling extremely Dark magic, and he could do a lot of damage with it if we let him run free. We've always said we want to end this on our terms – Riddle might be forcing us to do it a little earlier than we'd like, but we've had the plans ready for a while now, so we might as well put them into action."

"That might be better anyway," Luna added. "Elder wand or not, every moment we delay is another chance for Riddle to gain another ally."

"Then we should get moving," Sirius said. "I'll contact the Order via the coins and figure out how best to get us all to Hogwarts – obviously our best bet is the secret passage through the Hog's Head, but as Hogsmeade's being watched closer than goblins protecting gold, we're going to have to be extremely careful. While I do that, the rest of you need to eat and gather up anything you think you'll need – once we leave, I have a feeling we won't be coming back." The teenagers tried to ignore the ominous double meaning behind that phrase, but it was difficult – this was a battle, and therefore, there was a very real possibility that some of them might not come back alive.

Though it barely five o'clock, none of them could even dream of going back to sleep. They all hurried off to do as Sirius had bid and dug in to the heaping platefuls of breakfast Kreacher had provided – truth be told, they were far too nervous to want to eat anything at all, but they knew they'd need their strength if fighting actually broke out that day. Thanks to the charmed coins, it didn't take long at all for Sirius to get in touch with Professor McGonagall, who, after a lengthy discussion with Snape, was able to give them instructions on how to get into Hogwarts safely. Hermione contacted Neville, asking if he wouldn't mind coming to open the passage when they arrived – she suspected they wouldn't be able to get in on their own, not when the room was occupied by someone so intent on staying hidden – and she also sent out one last update to Peter and Eloise. She wasn't expecting any sort of response from either of them, but she'd promised to keep them in the loop regardless.

Two hours later, they were fully packed and huddled around the Portkey Kingsley had just delivered. Kingsley had spoken with McGonagall in more detail – as they understood it, the Death Eaters had set up a Caterwauling Charm all around Hogsmeade, and though the Order knew for sure that it activated after sundown, they weren't going to take any chances and end up walking into an ambush if they were wrong. Thus, their only option was to Apparate directly into the Hog's Head itself – as it was a very lengthy jump from London to Hogsmeade, however, they couldn't afford anyone Splinching themselves or otherwise draining too much of their magic in one go, and so Kingsley had arranged a Portkey that would take them to the nearest town. Once they'd arrived, they could Apparate to the Hog's Head from there.

The nearest town was hardly a town at all, with only a handful of small shops and cottages along the single main road. The Portkey dropped them in a grassy field behind a tiny church, and they wasted no time in continuing onwards. Sirius had thought ahead and packed plenty of anti-nausea potions, which he distributed as soon as Aberforth had ushered them all into his back room – Harry, who had never traveled well by any means of Apparition, was especially thankful, but one look at Pansy's pale features told him he wasn't the only one.

"I still think you're all fools," Aberforth remarked as they waited for Neville to arrive. Hermione had messaged him again and he'd replied in the affirmative, but the passage was a lengthy one, so it would be some minutes before Ariana's portrait opened. "Deliberately provoking You-Know-Who like this."  
"It's the only way we can end this once and for all," Harry replied firmly, his tone more than a little short. He knew that the old bartender had never seen eye-to-eye with his brother and had to admit he could understand where Aberforth was coming from in that regard – after all, Harry himself had been angry with Dumbledore for leaving them in the dark about so many important things – but he couldn't agree with Aberforth's declaration. Tom Riddle had to go, and if that meant a battle…well, they'd do what they had to do. The horrible alternative was incentive enough. Before he could openly argue, however, the portrait swung forward on its hinges, revealing a familiar face.

"Harry! Good to see you, mate!"

Harry could only gape as Neville clambered down from the portrait hole. His friend was an absolute mess – his face was covered in scars, many of them deep gashes that looked extremely painful, and his hair was long and unkempt.

"Neville, what the hell happened to you?" he demanded. Neville regarded him curiously.

"I thought Ginny said she'd told you what was going on?" he asked.

"She did, but… _Merlin,_ Neville, she never mentioned you'd been used as a bloody knife sharpener!" Neville just shrugged.

"I did what I had to do," he said, as if this sort of thing happened every day. "You know where my loyalties lie, Harry – a few cuts aren't going to change that. And I'd do it all over again if it meant saving another first-year, so don't even start." Harry was too speechless to argue, and after Neville had greeted the others – with a slightly wary glance at Pansy, to be sure – he led them back through the tunnel to the Room of Requirement.

"This place really is marvelous," he commented as he pushed open the door at the other end of the passage. "It's quite remarkable what this room can do if you only know how to ask…ah, good morning, Professor."

"Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall replied with a curt nod. "Mr. Potter, it's good to see you."

"Likewise, Professor," Harry said. McGonagall greeted the other new arrivals as well. Like Neville, she too was curious as to Pansy's presence, but as the dark-haired Slytherin had arrived with Harry and company, she left her questions unspoken for the time being. There were much more important things to worry about.

"What's the plan?" Harry asked once the pleasantries were out of the way.

"It might be best if you explained what happened first," McGonagall replied. "As I understand it, we have much to do, and very little time in which to do it." Harry nodded and quickly related everything that had happened that morning, taking care to leave nothing out.

"I see," McGonagall said once he'd finished. "Well, Potter, we'd best get started, then."

And so it was that a war council began in the Room of Requirement. Their first tasks were to take down the Carrows and evacuate the younger students. As it was a Friday, however, classes were in session, which made the planning difficult – even with the student population severely diminished, there were still hundreds of children to relocate, and they couldn't risk the Carrows or their handful of student followers finding out and alerting Voldemort before they were ready. Harry knew, of course, that Snape would have little choice but to reveal the Order's presence within Hogwarts at some point if he was to keep his double agent status a secret, but they wanted to be as far along as they could before that became a necessity. McGonagall's presence in the room was also a factor – they had to act quickly if they didn't want the Carrows to realize she was missing. In the end, they decided on surprise attacks in the Carrows' classrooms, followed immediately by an all-school summons to the Great Hall. With McGonagall's guidance, they timed their departure from the room with the beginning of second period – the fewer people they encountered in the corridors, the better.

The first phase of the plan went off without a hitch, the Carrows left unconscious and bound together in the closest broom closet, and Harry soon heard McGonagall's magically magnified voice calling all students to the Great Hall effective immediately. He and his friends headed there as well, arriving well before anyone else. The gasps that rang through the Great Hall as various students recognized the newcomers were plenty:

"I don't believe it!"

"It's Harry! Harry's back!"

"Hermione and Draco, too!"

"Oh, thank goodness Luna's alright!"

"Harry, watch out!"

This last shout came from Susan Bones, and Harry only just managed to duck out of the way of a nasty curse, which hit the wall behind his head and sizzled against the stone.

"Wands away, immediately!" commanded Professor McGonagall. She was glowering fiercely at a small group of students in one corner of the hall, all of whom had their wands drawn. Harry didn't recognize all of them, but after spotting Crabbe and Goyle in the mix, he thought it was safe to say they were the students who supported the Carrows. He, Draco, and Hermione immediately drew their wands in response, but before they could go any further, the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Snape strode in, his robes billowing behind him in their usual menacing fashion. For a long moment, nobody dared move.

"Headmaster!" a tall, dark-haired girl in the Carrows group suddenly shouted. "Potter's here – Potter and his friends!"

Harry knew what was going to happen just before it did – there was no other choice. Most of the assembled students didn't know what to look for and therefore missed it, but Harry thought he caught a glimpse of regret in Snape's dark eyes as he pressed his fingers to his Dark Mark.

This was it – they were officially out of time. Voldemort was coming.

* * *

 **A/N: I don't know if I have any readers in France, but if so, I hope you & your loved ones are all safe. My thoughts are with you.**

 **My sincerest apologies for the delay in this chapter - it just didn't want to write itself on Wednesday, at all. Hopefully the content makes up for that.**

 **Thank you, as always, for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading. As you can probably guess, we're nearing the end - but there's still a lot more to happen before then, so stay tuned.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & I hope you enjoy. :)**


	21. Unexpected Allies

Harry had never been so thankful for Snape's penchant for subtlety as he was in that moment – aside from the Carrows supporters and the more observant Order members, no one else had yet realized what the man had done, as Snape had merely touched his wrist beneath his robes rather than roll up his sleeve. He crossed his fingers that they could keep it that way as long as possible – the last thing they needed was a mass panic. Of course, it was bound to happen anyway once they announced the pending evacuation, but it would be far worse if the students knew that Voldemort was already aware of their plans. For the moment, though, all eyes remained on Snape, the students still awaiting his response to the dark-haired girl's outburst.

"Yes, I can see that," he finally said sardonically. "And now that you've finally succeeded in recognizing the most identifiable teenager in Wizarding Britain, I suggest you follow me. There are things we must do."

In his effort to keep from laughing, Harry bit his lip so hard he nearly broke the skin. The girl obviously wasn't the brightest, as her eager expression suggested she'd missed the rather blatant insult. He wasn't sure what Snape was planning, though, and watched with more than mild curiosity as the small group followed their headmaster from the Great Hall. There was the faint sound of the main doors opening, then shutting, and then nothing. Snape had taken the students outside? Why? Harry looked to Professor McGonagall, but she was now entirely focused on the remaining students gathered before her.

"Listen up," she commanded, though it wasn't really necessary as all eyes were already on her. "Mr. Potter and his friends have not dropped in for a mere social call – You-Know-Who is on his way, and we must act now if we are to defend ourselves with the courage, honor, and loyalty befitting this institution."

Frantic whispering erupted at Professor McGonagall's words. Older students drew their wands, while the younger ones gasped in fright, clinging to friends and classmates. The Deputy Headmistress called them all to order with a loud bang from her wand.

"It is imperative that we act in a timely fashion," she continued. "Before we can do anything else, I am ordering an evacuation of all underage students. No exceptions, Mr. Creevey!" she added sternly when Colin made to protest. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for the younger boy, who'd been in the D.A. and had been instrumental in the downfall of Umbridge. Though he was highly enthusiastic, however, Colin wasn't the best fighter, and Harry would rather have him leave than end up hurt.

"Mr. Potter, if you will please explain the evacuation plans?" Professor McGonagall asked. Harry nodded and stepped to the front.

"The plan is to take you all out of the castle through a secret passage to the Hog's Head bar in Hogsmeade," he explained. "From there, a team of Order members are waiting to take you to a number of safe houses via Side-Along Apparition. If you have the means to contact your families, you will be able to do so from there. Anyone who is of age may stay, but please understand that we're preparing for war – if you don't think you can handle that, please be honest with yourself and go to a safe house. We'd rather be safe than sorry, and the Order members at the safe houses will need all the help they can get." Many of those Order members would also be returning to the castle to fight, increasing the need for help from the older students.

"We will begin immediately," Professor McGonagall said. "I'm sorry I can't give the of-age students more time to decide, but that is the reality of the situation. If you wish to fight, please remain here in the Great Hall. If you wish to help elsewhere, please go with the younger students and make yourself known to an Order member – they will send you where you are most needed. I think it goes without saying that I expect the utmost respect for the situation regardless of what you choose. Professor Slughorn, as you are closest to the doors, if you could please act as Head of Slytherin and escort your house upstairs first. Kingsley should be waiting in the entrance hall to show you the way."

"Right away, Minerva," Slughorn replied. "Slytherin House, follow me, please!" The younger years dutifully followed suit, with most of the older students following along behind. Harry couldn't blame them, really – Slytherin House had always been the most dangerous in terms of outright declaring your loyalties, and he suspected many of them were still scared to do so. They could very well have family or friends in very real danger if they went too far. Nearly a dozen older students remained behind, however, Tracey, Blaise, and Daphne among them. Harry could see Daphne hugging her younger sister in farewell before Astoria was finally forced to join the retreating students and slipped away.

"Pomona, if you will go next, then," Professor McGonagall said crisply. Professor Sprout nodded and guided her Hufflepuffs from the hall.

The evacuation continued, with a number of students remaining behind from each house. Some students volunteered to go to the safe houses – Hannah Abbott, for instance, was still recovering from a recent run-in with the Carrows and wasn't confident in her ability to perform to her highest potential if she stayed – while a handful of others offered to help Madam Pomfrey as a makeshift medical team. Finally, the last of the Gryffindors had left the Great Hall, and those who remained were free to reunite.

"Draco!"

Draco turned around just in time to catch Tracey, who had thrown herself into his arms and was hugging him fiercely. Blaise and Daphne weren't far behind, Blaise grinning in that mischievous way he'd long ago mastered.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming back, you prat?" Tracey demanded once she'd released him. "We haven't seen you in months!"

"It's good to see you too," Draco teased. "Although technically, I wasn't gone for very long," he added sheepishly.

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked. "You left with the others back in October."

"We didn't, actually," Draco said. "We left the Hog's Head, yeah, but we doubled back around – Harry, Hermione and I were staying in the castle until the Easter holidays." His housemates gaped at him for a moment before Blaise burst out laughing.

"You sneaky little shit!" he said. "All this time we thought you were off in some safe house, and you were right under our noses! I applaud your thoroughly Slytherin move, mate."

"Applaud McGonagall, then," Draco said with a grin. "It was her idea." Blaise laughed even harder at that.

"I always did like her," he said, still snickering a little. "And I'd imagine it'd take more than an evacuation to tear Hermione away from the Hogwarts library."

"Something like that, yeah." Draco's grin faded as he intently studied his friends. "How are you three holding up, really?"

"It's been tough," Tracey said. "Really tough, actually. Those Carrows are a piece of work, and we had to be careful not to give ourselves away – some of the students supporting them are downright nasty."

"Where did they go, anyway?" Daphne asked.

"No idea," Draco replied with a shrug. Snape very well could have taken them off the grounds, but to where? Would those students be marching in with the Death Eaters? Unfortunately, until Snape returned, there was no way of knowing for sure.

The conversation continued as Order members began to trickle into the Great Hall. All of the Weasleys were there except for Percy and Ginny – Draco surmised that the latter had probably been forcibly evacuated by her mother, but if he knew Ginny, he'd see her again before long. She'd already proven over Easter that she wasn't going to stay on the sidelines while the rest of her family risked their lives, and she was definitely smart enough to figure out how to get back. Sirius was chatting with Remus and Tonks – Draco frowned at that; if they were both here, then where was Teddy? – and Ron was bent over the teachers' table, intently studying the defensive plans for the castle and occasionally pointing out something to Harry, who was taking notes. Many others continued to arrive over the course of the next half hour, but while the Heads of Houses returned after seeing the younger students to safety, there was still no sign of Snape.

* * *

Hermione was idly chatting with Susan Bones when she suddenly shrieked and raced towards the Great Hall's entrance, where a very familiar curly-haired blonde had just appeared.

"Eloise!" she cried as she hugged her former roommate. "Not that it isn't good to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought you were in America!"

"I was," Eloise replied, equally as thrilled to see Hermione as Hermione was to see her. "But you didn't think we'd just read your updates and do nothing, did you? We've had emergency Portkeys ready for months. It only took us this long to get here because our Headmistress had to explain the situation fully so that people could make an informed decision before volunteering." It was only then that Hermione noticed that Eloise hadn't come alone – behind her stood Lisa Turpin, a former Ravenclaw who had also fled to Salem the previous summer, and over two dozen teenagers Hermione assumed were Salem students. They had four teachers with them, one of whom Hermione assumed must be their Head of School, and Hermione recognized Maria and Julie, the sisters who'd shown Hermione, Ginny, and Tonks around Salem's campus when they'd visited two summers previously.

"I can't believe this!" Hermione said, still in obvious shock. "This is wonderful, thank you all so much!" She turned to her former hosts. "Maria, Julie – it's good to see you again. I promise I won't be stealing anything from you this time."

"No worries," Julie said with a wink. "You did pull off a pretty brilliant heist, if I do say so myself." Hermione chuckled.

"Hang on," she said suddenly. "Julie, aren't you underage? You're a year below Ginny, aren't you?"

"Hush," Julie said, pressing a finger to her lips. "No need to let that out – did you really think I was going to let you guys have all the fun without me? Our Head of School knows what I'm capable of, so she let me come. Besides, I've got a wicked trick up my sleeve that I think your Death Eaters will just love." She wiggled her eyebrows conspiratorially, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright, then," she conceded. "Care to share?"

"I think I'll keep it a surprise," Julie replied. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to save it for when everyone can see." The impish gleam in her eyes had Hermione wondering if she shouldn't introduce the younger girl to Fred and George.

The Americans' arrival wasn't the only unexpected surprise. Charlie Weasley had brought along as many of his fellow dragon tamers as their reserve could spare. Peter Johansson, the trio's friend and Harry's fellow Triwizard champion, showed up with a small but powerful contingent from Durmstrang, and they were surprised but pleased when Bastien Gerard, the other champion from Beauxbatons, arrived with a sizeable number of his own former classmates. As it turned out, he'd been helping to lead the resistance in France for quite some time now and had been in frequent contact with Fleur since Dumbledore had died. He and his team had responded to Hogwarts' distress call at once. The unexpected but welcome aid gave them a significant boost in numbers, and Harry, with Ron's help, was able to modify the plans to better protect areas of the castle that had previously been lacking in forces.

After a quick lunch of sandwiches provided by the Hogwarts house-elves, they got down to business. With the aid of a Sonorous Charm and a projection spell, Harry explained the plan, and they began dividing up into groups according to their strengths. The goal was to balance the fighting groups according to where they would be stationed – someone who wasn't good with long-range spells would be useless from one of the towers, for instance, and so they wanted to be sure the right people ended up in the right places. This took far longer than Harry would've liked, but he was pleased with the results nonetheless. When everyone dispersed to find their groups and further refine their strategies, Harry sought out Draco and Hermione.

"Do we know if the room's empty?" he asked when they were alone. "We still have to take care of the diadem, and I'd like to get that done before Riddle arrives." He paused and grimaced, rubbing at his scar, which hadn't stopped hurting all day.

"He's definitely preparing, but I don't know if he knows we know about the Horcruxes," he added. "There's…" He paused again and cried out as a sudden wash of pain shot through him.

"Shite," he cursed as the pain finally subsided. "Scratch that – he definitely knows we know. That's why he isn't here yet – he decided to check on the Horcruxes first. He's just discovered the missing cup."

"He probably thought he was safe – that no one had been clever enough to discover his secret," Draco said darkly.

"His arrogance is rather astounding sometimes," Hermione agreed. "But how is he going to check on all of them? He can't get into Malfoy Manor."

"He'll probably just trust that no one found the hidden compartment and skip it," Draco replied. "After all, Narcissa's been dead for over a decade, and Lucius wasn't in a state to tell anyone anything important for the longest time before he himself died. Assuming he doesn't know about Narcissa's portrait – and from the way she spoke, I don't think he did – Riddle will think that there was no one left to pass along that particular secret."

"He might still have some sort of magic to sense the Horcrux, even if he can't physically access it," Harry cautioned. "And even if he doesn't, that doesn't give us much time – the old Gaunt shack is just down the road from the Riddle house, so he'll know that…" He cut off again as another shot of pain ripped through him.

"Bloody _hell,_ he's mad," he said shakily when it had passed. "He's checked on the cup and the ring, and he already knows about the diary since he was there when I stabbed it, so assuming that the snake is the sixth Horcrux, that just leaves Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts."

"Which means we were out of time several hours ago," Draco said briskly as he grabbed Harry's arm and began hauling him up the marble staircase. "That diadem needs to go, _now."_

* * *

Ginny Weasley was fuming. Enraged. Absolutely irate.

She'd been smart enough to know that vocalizing her protests against the evacuation were pointless and had immediately begun searching her knowledge of Hogwarts' many passageways for a better alternative. She was quite pleased to recall a roomy alcove on the sixth floor, one that the evacuees would be passing on their way to the Room of Requirement. From there, it was a simple enough matter to slip away unnoticed – she wasn't the sister of Fred and George Weasley for nothing, after all – but her good mood had evaporated upon finding the alcove already occupied. Crouched in the far corner of the alcove, her wand in a death grip and her knuckles white, was Pansy Parkinson. Ginny quickly threw up a Notice-Me-Not Charm on the entrance to the alcove, followed by a _Muffliato,_ a useful spell from Snape that kept unwanted listeners from hearing private conversations. She then turned her wand on Pansy.

"What are you doing?" she asked sharply. "Why aren't you in the Great Hall with the others?" Pansy snorted.

"Do you really think I'm willing to show my face to that lot?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you were smarter than that, Weasley."

"So you're hiding up here and hoping to tag along after the younger students?" Ginny growled. "I've heard you're decent with Glamour Charms, Parkinson – wouldn't that suffice?" The redhead was growing angrier by the second.

"You have to know that walking into that hall right now wouldn't do me any favors," Pansy replied carelessly.

"So you're just going to abandon them, then?" Ginny asked angrily. "After all they did for you? They let you in on important plans, told you plenty of top-secret information. Draco gave you his trust and listened when you had nowhere else to turn. Hell, Luna probably saved your bloody _life,_ and you're just going to turn your back on them?"

"You don't understand!" Pansy hissed, now just as angry as Ginny. "What do you think would happen if I were to go downstairs right now? Draco and the others might've been foolish enough to give me the benefit of the doubt, but the others won't. I'll be locked up and interrogated without a second thought."

"Better that than fleeing like a coward!" Ginny snapped back. "And I thought you wanted out, that's what you told us that first night – you were half _dead_ , Parkinson…"

"Oh, will you just shut up for two seconds? I never said I was leaving, so stop being such a bullheaded Gryffindor for a minute and listen." Ginny continued to glare at Pansy but said nothing. Pansy took the silence as her cue to continue.

"As I was saying, walking into that hall right now would be a very bad idea," she said. "Which is why I need your help, Weasley."

"My help?" Ginny repeated, blinking hard as if she might've misunderstood. Pansy rolled her eyes.

 _"Yes,"_ she said impatiently. "I take back what I said earlier – you Weasleys are all bloody useless." Ginny raised her wand threateningly.

"If you expect me to help you, I suggest you keep your comments to yourself," she snarled. Pansy waved her off.

"Whatever. My point is, I can't just waltz into the middle of the Order reunion going on downstairs, but I doubt the Death Eaters will be all too pleased to see me on the other side, either," she said dismissively. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, your dear mother sent you up here in the hopes that you'd see reason and leave with the rest of your classmates – obviously she's forgotten how ridiculously stubborn you can be, as well as that little outburst you had over Easter. Even so, I can't imagine she'll be too thrilled once she finds out you've stayed behind – which you're clearly planning to do, as you wouldn't have entered this alcove otherwise."

 _"Dammit,"_ Ginny thought, recognizing that she'd been outsmarted. Pansy was right – neither of them were in any position to be out in the open during the upcoming battle. The Slytherin girl had the Death Eaters to think about, and she, Ginny…well, an angry Molly Weasley was almost as scary as Voldemort himself.

"What do you want?" she finally sighed.

"It's not really a matter of want as much as need," Pansy replied smoothly. "We both need a way to participate in the battle while remaining undetected. I'm proposing that we work together to ensure that happens."

"And how do I know I can trust you?" Ginny asked warily.

"You don't – but I'm the only option you've got." Pansy looked completely unperturbed by Ginny's question. Ginny sighed again.

"Alright," she conceded. "What's your plan?"

* * *

 **A/N: And so it begins... The battle is practically writing itself - I've already done another 2000 words in addition to this today, & it's still coming (although unfortunately I have to take a break to take care of some errands. Do I really have to care about real life? Sigh...) We're closing in on the end, but there are still quite a few surprises to go before then...**

 **Thank you all for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Leave me your thoughts on what's coming next, I'd love to hear them!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Enjoy! :)**


	22. Last-Minute Preparations

Thanks to the empty corridors, Draco, Hermione, and Harry made it to the dancing trolls tapestry in record time. Harry quickly set to pacing, thinking hard of the junkyard-like room, and he wrenched open the door the instant it appeared. Draco and Hermione followed him inside, Hermione careful to close the door behind her. It wouldn't do to have anyone follow them, not when they didn't know what this particular Horcrux might try to do.

"Er…do either of you remember _where_ in this room we found the diadem?" Harry asked hesitantly. His heart sank as he glanced around the nearest stacks of discarded items – he'd forgotten just how enormous this incarnation of the room really was. They could search it for days and still not find what they were after.

"We found it not too long before we found the Vanishing Cabinet," Hermione said slowly. "Better than that, though, I'm not entirely sure." Harry sighed.

"Well, a vague idea is better than no idea, I suppose," he conceded. "Shall we try to find the cabinet, then?"

It took them the better part of twenty minutes to find the Vanishing Cabinet – the vast majority of the objects around them were utterly unremarkable, which made it difficult to determine whether or not they were heading the right way, and of course the Vanishing Cabinet itself was now little more than a pile of ashes, thanks to the volley of spells the trio and Ginny had unleashed on it early in the fall term. Finally, however, Draco spoke.

"Does that bust look familiar to you?" he asked, pointing at a white marble statue perched on a nearby table. Hermione tilted her head to the side and regarded it curiously.

"Maybe," she said doubtfully. "But I have no idea who that wizard is…"

"That's it!" Harry shouted. "We're in the right place!"

"Sorry?" Hermione asked.

"When we were in here the last time, I remember we came across a bust of a wizard that even you couldn't identify, Maya," Harry said quickly. "What are the chances that there are multiple of those floating around, eh?" He scanned his surroundings for anything else that looked familiar. "Look – there's Snape's old book. The diadem was somewhere near both of those, I'm sure of it."

Now that they had a better sense of direction, the three friends resumed the search with renewed enthusiasm. It wasn't long before Hermione called, "I found it!" The boys hurried to her side, and all three stared down at the sparkling tiara resting on a table. It was made of silver, the ribbons of metal intertwined to form a delicate circlet. Tiny crystals – or diamonds, perhaps – dotted the band, with a larger sapphire nestled at the front, and as they leaned closer, they could see miniature words engraved on the side.

 _"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure,"_ Hermione whispered. "Ravenclaw's motto – if there were any doubts that this is her diadem, they're gone now."

"You have the fangs, Lotte?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded and extracted a small beaded bag from inside her sock. The hiding place was an odd one, but it was better than somewhere obvious like her jeans pocket – after quite a bit of practice, she'd managed to put an Undetectable Extension Charm on the bag, and it contained everything they'd thought they might need for the battle. The last thing she wanted was for Death Eaters to get their hands on that bag. With a practiced motion, Hermione pointed her wand into the bag.

 _"Accio_ fangs," she said. The protective pouch containing the basilisk fangs shot into her hand at once.

"I think this one's yours, Lotte," Draco said. Hermione's head shot up to meet his gaze.

"Mine?" she asked. "You think I should do this one?"

"I do. Harry's already done one – and we all know how well _that_ turned out – and I helped Dumbledore with the one at the manor."

"But you haven't had the satisfaction of actually downing one," Hermione pointed out. "And did you forget that I went with Harry to retrieve the cup?"

"Of course not," Draco replied. "But this is Ravenclaw's diadem – who better to put it to rest than you, the brightest student Hogwarts has seen in centuries?"

"Besides," Harry added, smirking slightly at the rising color in Hermione's cheeks, "Riddle thinks of you as lesser because of your blood. The fragmented soul of a prejudiced blood supremacist, a mere half-blood himself, destroyed by a Muggle-born…awfully poetic, don't you think?"

"When did you get so romantic?" Hermione asked amusedly. She then took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright – I'll do it." Gingerly, she reached for the diadem, taking care to touch as little of its surface as possible as she set it on the floor, then removed a fang from the pouch.

"You should probably stand back," she muttered. "We have no idea what this thing is going to do." She closed her eyes and listened as Harry and Draco shuffled backwards. Slowly, she raised the fang over her head and opened her eyes.

A single eye was staring back at her from within the diadem's central sapphire.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall paced the staff room, determinedly ignoring the low tones of conversation between Sprout and Sinistra, or the mutterings of incantations from Flitwick, or the slurping sounds coming from the far corner, where Slughorn was indulging in a cup of tea no doubt laced with something stronger. Most of the staff members had congregated here shortly after the Order had dispersed and had been discussing personal additions to the castle's protection plans, but Minerva's mind was on one Severus Snape. She'd noticed when the younger man had pressed his Dark Mark – her observational skills, heightened by her feline Animagus qualities, meant she rarely missed details like that – but she couldn't for the life of her fathom where he had gone, or why. She supposed he would have to report to Voldemort at some point, but how did the Carrows supporters fit into the equation? It was a question she couldn't answer, and Minerva didn't like unanswerable questions.

In an attempt to take her mind off her missing colleague, Minerva tried to concentrate on her own ideas for fortification, but it was difficult. Nearby, Professors Vector and Babbling were deep in discussion of how to combine Arithmancy and runes to create invisible but powerful obstacles for the Death Eaters, and all the talk of complex theorems and calculations was making Minerva's head spin. She had a decent understanding of both subjects, of course, but their conversation was far beyond her comprehension. The other side of the room, however, wasn't much better – Trelawney had decided to make an appearance for once, and she was muttering to herself about how they were all doomed because her Inner Eye couldn't focus amidst all this 'inane chatter'. Minerva nearly snorted when she heard that one, only just managing to catch herself in time.

Snape wasn't the only staff member missing, of course, but Minerva could easily account for the others. Madam Pince was busy protecting the library in every way she could – many of the items within were one of a kind and therefore could not be replaced if something were to happen to them. They were also, Minerva thought wryly, impervious to any sort of alteration, meaning that they were quite likely the only _accurate_ copies out there – thoughts of the _Prophet_ archives and one Scorpius Malfoy came to mind. Wizarding Britain couldn't afford to have anything happen to that library's collection. Hagrid had gone into the Forbidden Forest in an attempt to speak with the centaurs – though as they were such independent creatures, Minerva suspected they would only come of their own accord, and not due to any outside persuasion – and Madam Pomfrey was preparing her medical team, stocking potions, bandages, and salves while practicing healing spells of all sorts. Filch, who was a Squib and would therefore be unable to either fight or defend himself adequately, had been evacuated – Minerva privately pitied the students who were stuck in the same safe house as the grumpy old caretaker. Those four aside, however, everyone else was present. Snape was the only mystery.

Ten minutes later, the staff room door opened, revealing the man himself. Unlike when he'd left the Great Hall, he was alone. His expression betrayed nothing, and though he'd swapped his usual billowing robes for something more appropriate to dueling, his change in attire gave Minerva no clues regarding his whereabouts. Several of her colleagues immediately pointed their wands in Snape's direction – he wasn't exactly the most trusted person in the room – but Minerva merely stepped forward, her gaze fixed firmly on the newcomer.

"Your Patronus," she said shortly. "Cast it."

Minerva had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix long enough to understand the necessity of security questions. Wrong answers had exposed many an imposter in the past, and so the vigilant witch or wizard always exchanged questions with friends and family. However, Minerva was also smart enough to know that even the most skilled wizard could be overpowered, the answer to the most obscure question compromised. She also knew that there was a very real chance Snape had just come directly from Voldemort's camp – while his intimidating air and utter lack of discernible emotion would be difficult to imitate, it wasn't impossible, and so Minerva couldn't dismiss the possibility of another Death Eater under Polyjuice. A Patronus, on the other hand, was infallible – as it was an outward extension of the person casting it, it was impossible to copy. No matter how many disguises Minerva chose to wear, for instance, no matter how many Polyjuice potions she drank, her Patronus would always be a cat…and as she was one of the few privy to the true story behind Snape's loyalties, she knew what form she should expect from him as well.

 _"Expecto Patronum,"_ Snape said almost lazily. The silver doe shot from his wand and bounded once around the staff room before soaring through the window and out of sight.

"That will do," Minerva replied with a curt nod, ignoring the questioning looks she was getting from some of her colleagues. It wasn't her story to tell, nor was now the time to tell it.

"The Carrows supporters – where are they?" she asked.

"They won't be bothering us," Snape replied smoothly.

"You didn't _kill_ them?" Sinistra gasped in shock. "Severus, they're children."

"Did I say I killed them, Aurora?" Snape interrupted. "No – I said they wouldn't be bothering us. If you must know, the fools are currently unconscious in the sitting room of my childhood home, which has been warded to prevent their escape unless I personally remove the spells." He paused to pour himself a shot of firewhisky before preparing a cup of tea doctored with a second shot. "They will not be a problem this night." Many of the other teachers gaped at him, but Minerva merely smirked in satisfaction. She'd never tell _him_ this, of course, but in spite of his obvious Slytherin tendencies, Snape would have made quite the Gryffindor.

"Well, that's settled, then," she said briskly. "I suggest we get to strengthening the castle's defenses like we told the Order we would – we don't want to be caught unprepared."

"I second that!" Flitwick squeaked. The little Charms master hastened to the window and waved his wand, a stream of complex incantations flowing from his lips as he did so. Vector and Babbling left the staff room, still planning their own assault tactics, followed closely by Sprout, who was muttering something about Devil's Snare and Venomous Tentacula. One by one, the professors dispersed, until only Flitwick and Snape remained in Minerva's company.

"What will you do now, Severus?" she asked.

"My first order of business is to attend to a number of potions I have in progress," Snape replied. "Poppy will no doubt have need of them before the night is out. After that…I will do what I must."

"For her?" The question needed no clarification.

"Always."

"You're a very brave man, Severus Snape," Minerva said, reaching out to rest her hand on his arm. "Good luck." Snape didn't reply, his expression suggesting he wasn't quite sure what to make of his colleague's words. Without saying anything, he nodded brusquely and strode from the room.

"And then there was one," Minerva murmured. Of course, Flitwick was still in the room, but as he was completely immersed in his work, his presence didn't really count. She stood just inside the door to the staff room and raised her wand.

"And now for a spell I've always been curious about but had hoped never to use… _Piertotum Locomotor!"_

* * *

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black stood near the far end of the staff table in the Great Hall, hunched over the Marauder's Map. They, along with the Weasley twins, were in charge of protecting the school's secret passages, and they'd spent the last half an hour going over their plans for doing so. Fred and George had just left, off to rig the passage beneath the one-eyed witch statue with all sorts of nasty surprises in the event that any of the Death Eaters knew about it and tried to sneak in through Honeydukes. It was the first time the two friends had had a moment alone in a long while, and they found they had a lot to think about before the fighting broke out.

"You realize there's a good chance we're going to run into Peter at some point?" Remus asked. Sirius' face darkened.

"Am I supposed to care about that?"

"You obviously do," Remus pointed out. "You wouldn't have had such a strong reaction otherwise."

"He's the reason James is dead!" Sirius retorted. "I made my views clear on this sixteen years ago when Lily collapsed in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, sobbing her heart out, and they haven't changed since then – he betrayed us, all of us. After everything we shared with him, he sacrificed James without a second thought." His rant over, Sirius sighed and sank back into the closest chair, looking lost.

"I don't know how to cope with that," he whispered. "I didn't know how to then, and I still don't know how to now."

"We can only do the best we can," Remus replied, the pain of his dear friend's loss still smarting even with the passage of time. "I want him to get what he deserves, of course I do, but…he was our friend once. In spite of everything, I can't forget that."

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Sirius said. Remus nodded solemnly.

"And Moony and Padfoot will just have to do their best," he told his friend, reaching over and squeezing Sirius' shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "It's all we _can_ do, now."

"Harry's handling things remarkably well, considering," Sirius commented after a long pause.

"James would be proud," Remus agreed. "Lily, too."

"He was always a good kid," Sirius said, "but…he's so much more than that, you know? He's grown into a leader – he's confident without being cocky, he's strong but understands his weaknesses…"

"In other words, he's not you," Remus joked. Sirius punched him and messed up his hair.

"You walked right into that one, Padfoot," Remus said once he'd freed himself from his friend's clutches. "But you're right. Harry's grown into a remarkable young man. He's been through so much, far more than anyone three times his age should have to go through, and yet he's met every challenge – not only met them, but come out of them even stronger than before." Remus stopped speaking then, and neither man had the heart to voice their final sobering thought: _Now we just have to hope he can survive one more._

* * *

 **A/N: And so it continues...next chapter, the diadem's destruction (which I've already written & absolutely _love)._**

 **Thank you all for your follows/faves/reviews, & for reading!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please let me know what you think. A very happy Thanksgiving to everyone celebrating tomorrow, & to those who aren't, have a fabulous rest of the week! :)**


	23. Diadems and Deserters

Draco made to move towards Hermione when he saw the eye appear in the diadem's central sapphire, but Harry held him back with a hand on his arm.

"No," he murmured. "If the Horcrux in the diadem is anything like the one in the locket, Hermione won't be able to hear you once it starts speaking. She has to do this on her own." Even so, he wasn't comforted by his own words, and both boys drew their wands, preparing to jump in at any moment.

Hermione hadn't noticed the little exchange going on behind her. She was frozen, utterly transfixed by the eye looking back at her. It was horrible, somehow emulating the color of both fire and blood, and it seemed to be calling to her softly.

 _"Hermione Granger…"_

Hermione took a small step back, involuntarily lowering the basilisk fang as she did so, though she didn't loosen her grip. The eye blinked once and vanished, only to be replaced by a thick cloud of smoke, which spiraled upwards out of the sapphire and began to take shape, twisting and turning until it solidified into a figure she knew well.

"Miss me, Granger?"

His voice held far more of a sarcastic drawl than she was used to, and an arrogant sneer marred his handsome features. His clothes were impeccably tailored and clearly far more expensive than his counterpart's usual choices, and instead of the familiar grey, his eyes were the same terrible shade of red that had just been staring up at her moments before – but in spite of the differences, there was no mistaking his identity.

"I see our previous little tête-à-tête didn't leave much of an impression," Horcrux-Draco continued. "Are you really foolish enough to believe that he holds your heart in such esteem?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Hermione said, though she fought hard to keep her lip from trembling at the mention of her boggart. The Horcrux chuckled darkly.

"Not afraid of me?" he asked. "Oh, my dear Granger, you are so wonderfully naïve. I could kill you a dozen different ways with a flick of my wrist – and so could he. Why deny what has been staring you in the face for years now? He and I are one and the same, and _you_ are not worthy of our time."

"Lies!" Hermione hissed, but she was beginning to doubt her own words. Somewhere deep inside, she knew that it was the Horcrux influencing her thoughts, but she found she wasn't strong enough to fight it.

"Granger, Granger, Granger." The apparition shook its head. "Haven't you learned anything about Slytherins in your time here? We do whatever it takes – _whatever_ it takes – to reach our goals. Narcissa Malfoy leaving her son with _Harry Potter's mother?_ Do you really think it was because Black was the only family he had left? No – it was a calculated move, Granger, and it's your folly for not figuring that out sooner. And Draco himself – do you really think he befriended _you,_ of all people, because he actually _liked_ you? The bossy know-it-all, the bushy-haired Mudblood?"

Behind Hermione, Harry and Draco were both shaking like mad. Harry wanted to rip the apparition limb from limb, while Draco was struggling with what the Horcrux was actually saying. Hermione had to know it wasn't true, none of it was…but how far under its spell had she fallen?

"There are so many who could stand at Draco's side," the apparition said softly, almost lovingly. He snapped his fingers and a second apparition appeared, this one female. "Pansy." A second snap, another figure. "Daphne." A final snap. "Even little Astoria." The three young women moved seamlessly to Horcrux-Draco's side, each haughty and beautiful, and regarded Hermione with matching looks of disdain, as if she were no more than the dirt beneath their feet. They too had red eyes, though none of the girls' quite matched Draco's in intensity or color.

"So many choices – he has his pick of perfect pureblooded princesses…and yet you seem to think that little gem around your neck means something," the apparition finished with a scornful snort. He folded his arms across his chest, making sure that Hermione could see the gleaming signet ring on his finger.

"I will say it once more, Granger – this has all been a game. Just a game. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you can both go back to where you belong. You will _never_ be worthy of that ring, nor of the Malfoy name."

Hermione's head snapped up, and though the boys couldn't see her face, the Horcrux didn't miss the sudden fire in her eyes. She'd been growing steadily more doubtful and despondent as the Horcrux spoke – even though her subconscious knew the words to be false, the power of Dark magic to make a person believe something wholeheartedly was incredible – but the Horcrux had just made a mistake, and Hermione pounced. Four years ago, she would've been crying her eyes out to hear Draco – even if he was just a facsimile – saying such things, but that Hermione Granger wasn't this one. This Hermione had battled Death Eaters. This Hermione had lost two very important women in her life – one her mother, and one who might as well have been. This Hermione had won Quidditch championships, headed Dumbledore's Army, and earned top marks on her O.W.L.s. _This_ Hermione knew exactly what she was fighting for, and she was _not_ going to let the Horcrux win.

"You're right," she said, quietly but firmly.

"Pardon?"

"You're right – I will never be worthy of the Malfoy name," Hermione continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. "But you see, _that_ was never in the cards. The Malfoy name's a bit obsolete, you know – Narcissa didn't much care for what it stood for, so she gave her son her own name, and not once in the last thirteen years has he expressed a desire to change it. The last of the Malfoys is dead. But this…" She paused and held up her necklace, the engagement ring sparkling on the end, and couldn't help but smirk a little in a way that would've made the real Draco proud. "This is not a Malfoy ring. It belonged to Narcissa Malfoy, yes, but it came from the _Black_ family vaults. You say I'm not worthy of the Malfoy name, and you're right – I'm worthy of one that's much better." As she spoke, Hermione had drawn herself up to her full height, the fang once more suspended above her head. Upon her final declaration, she swung the fang down in a single sweeping motion and stabbed the exact center of the sapphire.

"No!" Horcrux-Draco shouted, but it was too late. Beside him, the apparitions of Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria evaporated, and flames of a poisonous green began licking the hems of his robes. Hermione could actually feel the heat from the flames, the basilisk fang growing uncomfortably warm beneath her fingers, but she held on, her eyes fixed firmly on Horcrux-Draco. The flames continued to rise until he was completely hidden from view, and though the fang was now burning hot, Hermione didn't let go. Finally, a long, drawn-out scream sounded from within the flames, followed by an earsplitting _crack_. There was a flash of blinding light, and the apparition was gone.

"Maya!" Harry cried, hurrying to kneel beside her. "Are you alright? Merlin, your hands!" Hermione's palms were blistered and burned from having kept hold of the basilisk fang throughout the Horcrux's destruction. Hermione, however, waved him off as if it was of no concern.

"I told him I wasn't afraid of him," she said firmly. "It was his own fault he didn't listen." At her words, Draco let out a choked gasp and rushed forward, enveloping her in his arms.

"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry," he murmured, the hand that wasn't around her waist gently stroking her hair. "It was horrible, watching you go through that, and to know that you'd had to hear that before…"

"Riddle can spin his pretty little lies all he wants, but I'm not a third-year anymore," Hermione replied. "My demons can't hurt me anymore – he made a mistake, and he paid for it." Her eyes were still blazing fiercely, and the hardness in her tone made it quite clear that she would hex the boys six ways to Sunday if either of them dared question her.

 _"Merlin,_ I love you," Draco breathed as he pulled her close and kissed her soundly. Hermione returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, but her injured hands prevented her from touching him. When Draco pulled away, he added, "Harry was right."

"Oh?"

"Bill and Fleur's wedding – after that little stunt you pulled in the Great Hall, Harry said it was a good thing you're on our side, because you're downright scary sometimes."

"And don't you forget it," Hermione said with a wicked grin. She glanced down at the Horcrux – it had cracked in half, perfectly bisecting the central sapphire, and now that it was no longer imbibed with powerful Dark magic, its true age shone through by way of many tarnished spots, scrapes, and blemishes. It made Hermione feel a little sad.

"Come," she said softly as she picked up her fallen wand and turned her back on the diadem. "We can't save it now, and we still have a lot to do."

* * *

The young man moved through the corridors rather faster than he usually would have, a sense of urgency that hadn't been there during his Hogwarts days plaguing his steps. He also glanced around far more often than was normal, but he was terrified of running into anyone before he'd fully prepared himself for what he was about to do. Oh, he'd already made the decision to come here, of course, but it wasn't exactly the fighting that scared him. Those he once called friends – and if he were being honest, even his own family – were likely to hex him on sight, and quite honestly, he wouldn't blame them if they did.

It had been a few years, but he could still get around the school easily enough, and he knew there was a hidden alcove not too far from his present location. If he could get to that alcove, he could stop for a moment and plan the best route to the waiting fighters downstairs. The young man was a bit confused to find what must've been a Notice-Me-Not Charm on the alcove's entrance – he was absolutely sure he was in the right place, given the incredibly unique tapestry hanging on the opposite wall – but he merely shrugged and pushed through the alcove's entrance. The alcove, however, was already occupied, and the young man stifled a yelp as he realized the younger of the two girls was precisely one of the people he was trying to avoid.

"Ginny?" Ginny looked up and gasped. She nearly leapt to her feet but only just remembered in time that Pansy still had a firm grasp on her hair, the older girl being halfway through pulling Ginny's locks into a battle-appropriate tight braid.

 _"Percy?"_ she asked, her tone laced with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, I suppose," Percy Weasley replied nervously. Ginny hadn't cursed him yet, but her expression was wary and her eyes were hard. Percy was also more than a little confused by the other girl's presence – he didn't remember her name, but he did remember docking points from Slytherin on more than one occasion when the girl and her friends had spat nasty insults at Muggle-borns in the corridors. He also knew the girl had been in the same year as Hermione Granger and had taunted the Gryffindor girl far too many times to count – why, then, was Ginny with her? As far as Percy could recall, Ginny and Hermione were quite close…Ginny scoffed, bringing her brother back to the present.

"Expected me to evacuate with the rest of the underage students?" she asked. "If you thought I'd willingly do that, then you don't know me half as well as…hang on." She did jump to her feet this time, ignoring the slight tug as her hair was forced from its hold between Pansy's fingers. Her eyes darkened as she raised her wand. "When I was little, what bedtime story did I insist _you_ tell me every night for a month straight?"

 _"Claribel and the Three Unicorns,"_ Percy said immediately, though he cringed a little as he said it. "And it was actually closer to three or four months, I'll have you know," he added after a moment. Ginny nodded stiffly and lowered her wand.

"I had to be sure it was really you," she explained. "Given that you're best mates with the Minister and his cronies, you could've been anyone." Percy cringed again – as harsh as his sister's words were, she definitely had a point.

"That's actually why I'm here, Gin," he said. "I…I was wrong. I never should've said the things I said, never should've thrown you all to the wayside for the sake of my career. I regretted everything a long time ago, actually, but by then, I didn't know how to get out, I'd dug myself into such a deep hole. I know that coming here today doesn't even begin to make up for what I've done, and I know my apology is worth next to nothing, but I'm so, so sorry."

Ginny regarded Percy for a long moment as she mulled over what he'd said. He'd called her 'Gin'…she couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. She'd been absolutely furious when he'd up and left, but the family-oriented part of her couldn't help but remember the brother who'd held her hand on family outings, who'd comforted her when the twins' or Ron's teasing had gotten to be too much, who'd reassured her on her first day at Hogwarts that she'd be great…and, yes, the brother who'd put up with her endless obsession with _Claribel and the Three Unicorns_. Ginny allowed her harsh expression to make way for a small smile, and in a move that surprised them both, she hugged Percy tightly. Percy only hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace.

"I still think you're a selfish git, but I can't forget that you're my brother," Ginny murmured into Percy's shoulder. She pulled back slightly and looked up into his face. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you,"_ Percy corrected with a slight smile of his own. "Thank you for giving me a chance to explain myself, and a chance to make things right."

"Well, you've made a good start, at least," Ginny said. "What made you finally decide to do something?"

"I…I have an Order coin, actually," Percy admitted sheepishly. "I've been in touch with Aberforth – you know, down at the Hog's Head – for a while now, and he's been keeping me updated. I've also been in contact with Penelope and Gemma, since they're old classmates of mine – they're both on their way as well, if they're not here already. When the call went out a little while ago, I knew that this was it." He stopped speaking and looked over at Pansy, who hadn't yet spoken.

"Mind explaining what's going on?" he asked, nodding towards Pansy. "I…I sort of remember you from school, and you didn't exactly run around in our kinds of circles."

"This is Pansy Parkinson," Ginny explained as she sat down again so Pansy could fix her braid. "She's defected, but aside from a small handful of people, no one else knows that. Any ideas?"

"Ideas on what?" Percy replied.

"How to get us into the battle, obviously," Pansy said, her tone dripping with its usual impatience. "Your sister here is underage, which means we need to keep her around long enough that everyone else will be too busy to focus on getting her out, and I'm not exactly the most welcome person around here – plenty of people are liable to hex me before I have a chance to explain." Percy thought it rather ironic that he'd been thinking nearly the same thing, but for different reasons.

"What makes you think I can help you?" he asked honestly. "I'm not Fred or George – I'm no master of disguise, and you know I'm rubbish at pranks."

"You are," Ginny agreed with a smirk. "But you're smart, and you're still a Weasley – I'm sure you've got a trick or two up your sleeve." Percy thought about it for a long moment.

"Alright," he said. "I'll help you. What did you have in mind?"

* * *

 **A/N: Apologies for the delay - when you've got a really bad head cold, the last thing you want to do is stare at a computer screen.**

 **So we're down another Horcrux - huzzah! Cue the return of badass Hermione. And now Percy's back...lots going on here!**

 **Thank you for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Hope you're all enjoying it so far.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. :)**


	24. A Horrifying Realization

Harry, Draco, and Hermione left the Room of Requirement, Harry firmly closing the door behind him, and began the long journey back downstairs. Their first destination was wherever Madam Pomfrey was – Hermione would be useless in the upcoming battle, not to mention possibly permanently scarred, if they didn't do something for her burned hands – and after that, they planned on returning to the Great Hall as soon as possible. Harry's 'vision' had confirmed that Voldemort knew what they were up to, and it was only a matter of time before he arrived at Hogwarts, no doubt with his most ruthless supporters in tow.

They'd reached the fifth floor when a colossal crash made them jump so high they nearly fell over.

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked as he pressed a hand to the wall to steady himself. Hermione just shrugged, but Harry gasped and pointed down the corridor.

"Look!" he said. The suit of armor that normally stood in the nearest alcove was no longer in said alcove, but marching off to some unknown destination. They could see other suits of armor doing the same, and as the crash had been enough to shake the entire castle, they suspected that every statue in Hogwarts had suddenly come alive.

"This has to be McGonagall's doing," Harry remarked as they took the nearest shortcut to the fourth floor. "Who else would be able to pull off something like this?"

"I suppose it means the teachers' defenses are working," Draco added. "That's something, at least."

* * *

They found Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. The matron was busy issuing orders to her team, who were gathering potions, salves, bandages, and other crucial supplies for transport to one of half a dozen makeshift medical stations that were being set up throughout the castle. Their center of operations would be the Great Hall, but in the event that the fighting progressed to the upper floors and someone was too injured to make it all the way downstairs for treatment, the medical team needed to be prepared.

"Mr. Potter, I know you have a remarkable talent for injuring yourself in the strangest of ways, but the fighting hasn't even started," the medi-witch remarked as she caught sight of the trio.

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," Harry reassured her with a chuckle, memories of his many past visits to the hospital wing coming to mind. "But if you can spare a minute, Hermione really needs your help."

"Goodness, child!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed as Hermione stepped forward and revealed her blistering palms. "What happened?"

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey had never been one to ask too many unnecessary questions – Harry supposed this was due to having seen so many odd maladies over the course of her career, but he was grateful all the same. Telling the full story would mean letting Madam Pomfrey in on the secret of the Horcruxes, and while he trusted the medi-witch to patch him up after a Bludger hit or a Potions class gone wrong, the Horcruxes were another matter entirely. Those who knew had been told in utmost confidence, and there were too many other people coming in and out of the hospital wing at the moment. Of course, Madam Pomfrey was able to tell that Hermione had been in direct contact with some form of Dark magic, and they had to tell her about the basilisk fang, but they were able to keep the details to a minimum, and Hermione's hands were soon encased in thick bandages while the paste below them worked to heal her mutilated skin.

"I don't care if the fighting breaks out the instant you walk out of this room – you're to keep those bandages on for the next hour," Madam Pomfrey said firmly. "You'll have far worse things to worry about if you don't – those nerves are delicate." They knew better than to disagree – Hermione had read several books on healing spells in recent months, but all the books in the world couldn't compete with actual Healer training or experience, and Hermione had no desire to lose the use of her hands. Madam Pomfrey had said an hour, and so an hour it would be. The trio thanked her profusely and hurried from the hospital wing.

"I suppose it could be worse," Hermione commented as they walked. "I'm in the group stationed in Ravenclaw Tower, so unless some of the Death Eaters show up on brooms, I won't be in the thick of things right away."

"Why are you in Ravenclaw Tower?" Harry asked. "Isn't there a group stationed in Gryffindor Tower?" He tried to visualize the battle plans, but there were so many groups that they all seemed to bleed together.

"No," Hermione replied, "there isn't. Gryffindor Tower is a full two floors above Ravenclaw to begin with, and long-range spells are extremely difficult. Those of us in my group are good, of course, but even we would have trouble maintaining the kind of power needed to take down Death Eaters from seven stories up. Besides, I believe Ravenclaw Tower has a slightly more advantageous position in terms of which part of the grounds it faces – although as I've never been in there before, I'll have to take Luna's word for it." Luna was part of Hermione's group – in addition to the blonde being well suited to the task, it would be much easier for the rings quartet to meet up if two of them were already together when the time came. Draco and Hermione had already decided against fighting together initially – yes, they'd practiced it plenty of times in mock duels amongst themselves and with the DA, but this was the real deal, and they couldn't afford any distractions – and so the two girls had paired up instead.

* * *

Despite the house tables having been removed while they were gone, the Great Hall was even more packed than when they'd left. Blaise, who they found near the doors deep in conversation with Tonks, gave the trio a quick run-down of everyone who'd arrived during their absence, including several shopkeepers from Diagon Alley, and what seemed to be the entire of-age population of Hogsmeade. The fact that they recognized so many people was worrisome – was the average British wizard just going to sit back and leave a bunch of schoolchildren to fight one of the Darkest wizards of all time? – but there wasn't time to dwell on that. Groups had begun leaving the Great Hall for their stations, and the trio too would have to leave soon.

"Be careful, yeah?" Blaise said as he prepared to depart with his group, which was one of those in charge of the dungeons. "I'd best be seeing you when this is all over."

"You too," Draco replied, clapping Blaise on the back. "No dying on me – I think Tracey would personally bring you back just to kill you again if you did." Blaise chortled.

"That's only if my mother doesn't get to me first," he said with a grin.

"Your mum's here?" Harry laughed.

"Yeah – she's right over there." Blaise nodded towards where the Slytherin table usually stood. A tall, elegant witch was conversing with some of the dragon tamers, and though the trio had never met her before, they recognized her from the cover of an issue of _Witch Weekly_ Ginny had shown them on the Hogwarts Express a few years prior.

"She's even more gorgeous in person," Hermione said, clearly in awe. Blaise chuckled again.

"Beware the Black Widow, Hermione," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm just glad she's fighting on our side – being on the business end of that woman's wand is something I do _not_ want to experience."

"Why _is_ she here, anyway?" Draco asked. "I thought your mother was neutral in all of this."

"She was…but it turns out she actually does care about me, far more than she's ever really shown," Blaise admitted. "My uncle – you know, my father's twin brother, the one I spent a fair bit of my past summer holidays with? – he's here too, and he told me that in spite of her hard exterior, my mother really does love me, just as she really loved my father. Family is more important to her than anything, and since I'm here, she is as well."

"So she doesn't necessarily believe in our cause?" Harry asked with a slight frown. Blaise tilted his head in thought.

"I wouldn't say that," he said after a moment. "She's no stranger to the Dark Arts, which means she knows how destructive they can be. I left nothing out in my correspondence with my uncle, and he must've shared it with her, because she knows just how dangerous Wizarding Britain has become, as well as what us students have been dealing with this year. Needless to say, the mother in her was not happy, and regardless of what she thinks about anything else, she wants old Snakeface gone as much as any of us."

"That's good enough for me," Hermione declared. "Is she helping the dragon tamers, then?"

"I don't really know, but she hasn't talked to many other people since she arrived, so I suppose it's a possibility." Blaise glanced towards the entrance to the Great Hall. "I'd better go – my group's leaving."

"Be careful, Blaise," Hermione said.

"I will. I'll see you all soon, yeah?" The friends exchanged a last round of hugs, and they smiled slightly when Blaise took a detour across the hall to embrace his mother and a man who could only have been his uncle – they knew Blaise had a tempestuous relationship with his mother at best, and it was nice to see that relationship slowly growing stronger. Moments later, he was gone.

"We should probably head out soon as well," Harry murmured, but before Draco or Hermione could reply, there was a shout and a commotion near the entrance to the Great Hall. The trio hurried forward to see what was going on. A number of people had drawn their wands on a newcomer to the room, and Harry gasped when someone in front of him stepped aside and he was able to see who it was.

"Give me just one minute of your time, please," Percy Weasley requested. Harry noticed immediately that the estranged Weasley brother neither looked nor sounded at all like his usual self – the pomposity had made way for nerves, so much so that Percy looked as if he might be sick at any moment. The redhead raised his hands up, palms out in the universal gesture of peace.

"Mum, please." Percy had obviously spotted his parents in the crowd. "I know the list of what I've done to you is long enough to rival Filch's list of banned objects…maybe even more so. But I was wrong, so wrong…and maybe I don't deserve a chance to explain myself, and maybe you wouldn't listen even if I tried, but please…even if you can never forgive me for what I've done, I want to help." Percy dropped his gaze to an unidentified spot on the floor and bit his lip – Harry had never seen him looking so insecure, so…childlike. He'd even called Mrs. Weasley 'Mum' – in all the years Harry had known Percy, he'd never once heard the redhead call her anything but 'Mother'.

"Percy…you're a prat," one of the twins began. "A prat, and a thousand other far worse things that I won't waste my breath on at the moment…but in spite of that, I'm glad you're here." Whichever twin it was – Harry couldn't tell from his vantage point – offered a hand, which Percy gratefully shook.

"You came back a bit late, but you still came back – that's good enough for me."

"Thank you, George," Percy replied quietly, and in a move that stunned everyone who knew him, he dropped George's hand and pulled his younger brother in for a fierce hug.

"Oh, _Percy!"_

George narrowly escaped falling flat on his backside as his mother rushed forward to embrace her third son, their father not far behind. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Fred stood nearby, but it was Ron who spoke up next.

"Hang on," he said. "That little speech was all well and good, but it doesn't sound like you at all, Perce – how do we know you're an imposter?"

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley admonished, but Bill cut her off.

"He's right, Mum – not that I'm not thrilled at the idea of Percy finally seeing sense, because I am, but if I've learned anything from my time in the Order, it's constant vigilance. We'd be wrong not to check."

"I'd take Veritaserum if I could, but I'm afraid I don't have any to offer," Percy said quietly. Harry felt a little sorry for him – he looked thoroughly miserable.

"If I said we'd already spoken to someone who confirmed his identity, would you believe me?" Harry looked to see who had spoken – in all the confusion surrounding Percy's sudden arrival, it had previously gone unnoticed that he hadn't come in alone. Behind him stood Penelope Clearwater and Gemma Farley, Percy's former classmates and the current co-owners of The Dragon and the Unicorn, the wonderful café in Hogsmeade Harry had first discovered in his fifth year. It was Penelope who'd asked the question, and Harry turned to address her.

"What do you mean?"

"Percy ran into someone else – two someones, actually – before he came down here with us," Penelope explained. "One of them suspected something of this nature might happen, and so she told me to tell you this: 'The first time we met, Percy was utterly obnoxious and called me a horrible name, but we just ignored him and went off to play Quidditch.' She said that would be enough for at least a few of you."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the message – he knew exactly who it was from, and his heart felt that much lighter for it. More importantly, however, it was unquestionably genuine. The memory involved was so insignificant that no one would ever even think to use it, and yet that carefree Easter at the Burrow was special enough that Harry could fondly recall every detail. He couldn't see Draco or Hermione's faces as they were stood behind him, but he imagined that Hermione, at least, would also remember the interaction in question with ease.

"That's good enough for me," Harry said definitively. "He's the real Percy."

"How do you know?" Ron asked with a frown. "That message made no sense!"

"It did, actually," Harry replied. He wasn't surprised that Ron didn't remember the scene in question – Ron was brilliant tactically, but he wasn't the best with recalling vague details, especially with regards to his siblings.

"Who was the message from?" Bill asked curiously.

"Someone I trust with my life," Harry said, and left it at that. He was pretty sure the fond smile on his face gave him away to the newly-married Bill, however, as the eldest Weasley son gave a nod of apparent understanding and didn't question him further.

"I have no reason not to trust Harry," Bill said instead. "Perce – I'm glad you came back. We could use all the help we can get."

Harry turned away then to give the Weasley family some time alone with Percy before everyone split off for their various assignments and caught sight of the knowing smile on his best friend's face.

"We always knew she'd find a way to stay behind," Hermione said softly.

"Yeah, we did," Harry replied, a smile of his own appearing at the thought of his stubbornly determined other half. "She's probably hidden herself away somewhere so that her mum can't track her down and force her to leave before anything happens."

"She'll be fine," Draco said confidently. "She's got the legendary Weasley determination and the best Bat-Bogey Hex in all of Hogwarts – if the Death Eaters are smart, they'll stay far, _far_ away."

"I anticipate quite a few Death Eaters having nasal issues before the night is out, then," Hermione said quite seriously, but she couldn't help herself and almost immediately dissolved into giggles. Harry and Draco laughed too, Hermione's little joke helping to diffuse the tension somewhat.

"One last thing before we go our separate ways," Hermione continued once she'd stopped laughing. "According to the prophecy, we can't bring out the rings until six Horcruxes are gone – how are we going to know when that's happened? We have no idea where the snake's going to be, and if one of us gets the chance to kill it when the others aren't around, we'd be foolish not to take it."

"Some sort of signal, perhaps?" Draco suggested. "Wand sparks?"

"Wand sparks alone will be hard to see in the middle of a battlefield," Harry said with a frown. "It would have to be something much more noticeable."

"A signal is probably our best bet, though," Hermione agreed. "Chances are we won't find the snake straight away, so we have a little bit of time to think of something."

"That's the best we can ask for, I think," Harry said with a shrug. "As long as it's something noticeably different, that should be enough."

* * *

Sometime later, Harry sat alone near the edge of the clock tower, gazing out over Hogwarts' front lawn as he absentmindedly ran his fingers over his invisibility cloak. His role for the time being, as much as he hated it, was to stay out of the way as much as possible – even if not everyone knew the exact details of the prophecies, most agreed that Harry was indeed 'the Chosen One', destined to personally defeat Voldemort, and in order to do so, he needed to be kept unharmed at all costs. There was nothing saying he couldn't fire spells from his position in the clock tower, and of course if anyone managed to break in, he could certainly do something about it, but Harry wasn't supposed to venture out into the open if he could help it. He felt a bit useless as he watched his allies scurrying this way and that down below, but he had a lot on his mind, and he knew that this was probably the only chance he'd get to really think about things before it was too late.

The first thing weighing on Harry's mind was the Hufflepuff ring – he and his friends had split up almost a half hour ago now, the battle was looming ever closer, and they still didn't know who the fourth member of the rings quartet was. Harry was more than a bit worried about this, as the rings played an integral part in the battle if the prophecy was to be believed, and he resolved to keep an eye on everyone near him just in case the perfect candidate was closer than he thought.

Harry's second set of worries involved his friends and family. Yes, they were all extremely capable fighters, and they knew exactly what they were getting themselves into, but Harry couldn't help but fear for their lives. Sirius had fought before, but Harry, Draco, Hermione, and the others had only really faced battle during the attack on the Hogwarts Express…and Hermione had nearly died that day. Harry shuddered violently at the memory and tried not to think about it, but the fact remained that in spite of all their training, they were still just a bunch of kids, kids who really weren't prepared for the horrors that awaited them. Realistically, he knew it was too much to hope for that they'd all survive, but Harry truly didn't know what he'd do if he lost another family member, whether blood related or otherwise.

His final set of thoughts stemmed from Pansy's comments back at Grimmauld Place earlier that morning. None of the others had ever mentioned it, but Harry couldn't help but think about Pansy's observation that there was something off about his lightning bolt scar. He didn't think Pansy knew just what the Horcruxes were – none of the others had ever mentioned the term itself in front of the Slytherin girl – but the comments still stood, and Harry desperately wanted to make sense of them. His scar had been prickling almost constantly since their arrival at Hogwarts, and he'd had that horrible flash of anger and pain when Voldemort had finally figured out what they'd done. Harry didn't think it was a Legilimency-related connection – he wasn't an outstanding Occlumens, but he could manage alright, and he'd never seen nor heard anything that made him think that Voldemort was aware of the link – but what could it possibly be? Pansy had pointed out that the cup had acted differently, backfiring in a way that none of the other Horcruxes had, and had questioned whether they'd really destroyed it…

When the answer finally came to him, Harry nearly shouted aloud, he was so startled. They hadn't actually destroyed that particular Horcrux at all, had they? It had done something else entirely…

Holy _shite,_ was he in trouble…

Before he could fully consider his truly horrifying revelation, however, a barrage of spells lit up the front gates like a fireworks display. The Death Eaters had arrived, and the Battle of Hogwarts had officially begun.

* * *

 **A/N: So Harry just figured out something extremely unsettling, didn't he? The question is, what's he going to do about it...**

 **Fun fact: this chapter makes this story the longest one I've ever written. Pretty nifty, methinks - special thanks to everyone who's read, followed, faved, &/or reviewed! Whether you've been here since the beginning or only just jumped in, it means a lot.**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	25. The Battle of Hogwarts

Hogwarts had some of the most secure wards in Wizarding Britain, if not the entire Wizarding World – which was why Harry found himself shaking in his shoes when the gates blew apart, chunks of wood and metal flying in all directions to land scattered across the grass. Hogwarts had gone from one of the safest places Harry knew to one of the most vulnerable in a matter of seconds, and it was only about to get worse.

Those on the front lines surged forward, prepared to do their duty to protect the school and those within, but it was clear from the start that this wasn't going to be easy. The Order members and their allies tripped up several Death Eaters with a spell that split the earth, creating large crevasses that people could easily fall into, but the Death Eaters fought back with just as much gusto, lights of all colors flashing from their wands as they bombarded their opponents with a volley of nasty curses. Rather than dwell on his recent thoughts, Harry leapt to his feet and began throwing spells from his spot in the clock tower.

 _"Impedimenta!"_

Harry felt a grim sense of satisfaction as his first spell hit home, the Death Eater's movements slowing to the speed of molasses.

 _"Stupefy!"_

His second spell missed.

 _"Confringo!"_

The third made up for it, exploding the ground around a trio of Death Eaters and temporarily blinding them.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

And on and on it went. No one had yet realized just where Harry's spells were coming from, but he knew it couldn't stay that way forever. At some point, someone was bound to look up and notice that the clock tower really was the perfect place for someone to remain hidden. Until then, however, Harry would make the most of it. He began throwing several far more creative hexes to blind, trip, or otherwise incapacitate as many Death Eaters as he could. He also kept an eye on the other Order members out on the grounds – Tonks and Neville were amongst those out there, and Harry was going to do his best to make sure they made it out alive.

An enormous crash shook the grounds, and Harry stifled a scream as he looked towards the ruined front gates. The Death Eaters had brought giants! There were three, and they made Hagrid look tiny – each easily twenty feet tall, with broad torsos, limbs as thick as tree trunks, and mean little eyes that glittered as they sought out their first targets. Two of the giants carried clubs, the weapons the size of a grown man at least, and half a dozen Order members scrambled to get out of the way as the nearest giant raised his club and smashed it into a nearby oak. Another half dozen jumped in to fight the giant, the group struggling to coordinate their attack as the giant continued to pursue them relentlessly – giants were known for their thick skin and would be impervious to most spells unless the wizards could somehow land several of the same spell all at once. Harry gasped as someone's body – he couldn't tell if it was friend or foe – went flying and crashed into the castle walls, the person slumping to the ground in a motionless heap. The giant then took its club and began beating it against the castle itself – it was obviously trying to break through, and though Hogwarts was strong, Harry suspected even she couldn't hold up against a giant's club forever. Keeping one eye on the giant, Harry returned his focus to the closest fighters.

 _"Incarcerous!"_

* * *

Remus and Sirius stood nearly back-to-back halfway along a corridor on the second floor. Despite the Order's best efforts, the Death Eaters had broken through the front doors roughly twenty minutes ago, the battle rapidly spreading throughout the castle itself while fighting continued outside. The two friends were intently focused on the Death Eaters in front of them, hurling hexes this way and that – the spells hit home more often than not, but these Death Eaters were skilled fighters and wouldn't go down easily.

"Duck!" Sirius shouted. His spell hit the nearest wall sconces, which detached and began pounding his opponent over the head. The Death Eater clearly hadn't expected to be attacked by torches, and Sirius pounced on the opportunity.

 _"Stupefy! Incarcerous! Expelliarmus!"_

The Death Eater toppled to the floor, unconscious and bound from head to toe in thick ropes. Sirius picked up his fallen wand and quickly snapped it in half. He then ripped off the man's Death Eater mask.

"Avery," he said with a snort. "Never did like him." He tossed the mask aside, followed by the broken wand pieces.

"A little help here, Padfoot?"

Sirius yanked his attention away from Avery's motionless form – Remus's Death Eater was still putting up one hell of a fight. He jumped up to join in, he and his longtime friend reading each other's moves just as easily as they'd always done. The Death Eater faltered under the added assault, and Sirius blasted his mask aside with ease. When he saw just who their opponent was, he growled.

 _"You,_ " he spat. Peter Pettigrew stood before them, a sneer on his gaunt face.

"Hello Moony, Padfoot."

"What gives you the right to use those names?" Sirius snarled. Remus held out his arm, wordlessly asking Sirius to be quiet. Sirius was furious, but he acquiesced and backed down – he was smart enough to know that letting himself get too worked up would only lead to trouble.

"How could you, Peter?" Remus asked softly. "We were friends – _best_ friends – and yet you sold James and Lily to Voldemort without a second thought." There wasn't a point in observing the taboo anymore – the battle had already begun, and if Voldemort wasn't already here, he was most definitely on his way. "Why, Peter? _Why?"_

"I don't think you understand," Pettigrew began. "But-"

"No, I _don't_ understand," Remus interrupted. "I really don't. James was your brother in all but name, and Lily – Lily was never anything but kind to you, even when she still thought we were all arrogant jerks! Do you remember the time she sat with you in the common room for nearly four hours until she was sure you understood the Charms assignment near the end of our fourth year? Or how she took the time to learn your favorite sweets so she could send you a nice Christmas gift? Or that she saved a dance for all of us at her wedding, including you? How could you just throw that all away?"

"I…" For the first time, Peter looked uncertain – in fact, he looked far more like the Peter they knew than the Peter who'd become a Death Eater. After a moment, though, the uncertainty vanished, replaced by an ugly expression.

"It's not my fault I was the only one who realized Dumbledore was nothing but a fool," he said sharply. "My master promised me power, promised me a place where I wouldn't be continuously outdone-"

"Ha!" Sirius let out his trademark bark-like laugh. "Is that what this is about? Petty jealousy? And you're delusional if you really believe your dear 'master' actually gives a damn about you."

"My master was extremely satisfied when I handed him the Potters!" Peter retorted. "James and Lily were two of the Order's most powerful members, and I played an integral role in their downfall!"

"And when the job wasn't finished? When Lily and Harry got away? I can't imagine he was too pleased with that."

"And you're an arrogant, egotistical bastard as always!" Peter shouted. "Don't act like you really cared about me, _Black."_ He'd evidently decided that he'd had enough of this particular conversation and raised his wand, an inky black hex shooting from the tip. Sirius blocked it and countered with a hex of his own, and the duel recommenced, the three former friends now battling for dominance – and in all likelihood, their lives.

Perhaps it was because the vendetta was now personal, but the second half of the duel was far worse than the first. It was clear that the three men were dueling to kill, and it was only a matter of time before one of the deadly spells hit its target.

That time came sooner than Sirius would have liked. A massive explosion shook the corridor in which they stood, stones the size of cars crashing all around them as a huge club punched its way through the castle's outer wall. One of the stones – this one much smaller, but the football-sized chunk was still capable of doing some major damage – clipped Sirius' shoulder and he yelped in pain, only just managing to hang on to his wand. He dove sideways as the rocks continued to fall, doing his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his arm, and then looked up just in time to see a fiery orange jet of light hit Remus squarely in the chest. Remus doubled over and clutched his side in agony before falling to his knees and vomiting a veritable fountain of blood.

"MOONY!" Sirius screamed. He readjusted his grip on his wand and struggled to his feet.

"What did you do to him, you bastard!" he shouted at Pettigrew. Pettigrew just shrugged.

"Nothing less than he deserved," he said coolly. "If he's lucky, he'll die quickly. And now it's your turn – never again will you cocky pricks look down on the likes of _me."_

"We most certainly won't," Sirius snarled, "because you won't live long enough to see it!" Ignoring the now searing pain in his arm, he launched himself towards Pettigrew, transforming into the huge black dog in midair. Snarling and snapping, he bit and scratched every part of Pettigrew he could reach, the two rolling around on the floor as they grappled for control. Sirius sank his teeth into Pettigrew's leg, thoroughly satisfied when he heard the crunch of breaking bone, but he immediately let go and yelped in pain when Pettigrew plunged a knife into his side. The blade had missed anything vital, but it still hurt like nothing Sirius had ever felt before. He instinctually lashed out with his back legs and kicked, hitting Pettigrew in the gut. As they'd been fairly close to the newly-made hole in the wall, Pettigrew went flying through it, screaming as he fell. Sirius managed to hang his head over the edge of the hole, and though he was somewhat saddened by the thought, he couldn't help but feel a bit vindicated at the sight of Pettigrew's motionless form. He wasn't sure if his former friend was dead, but he was definitely seriously hurt at the very least. The satisfaction quickly vanished, however, when he remembered Remus. He turned back to his friend, who was now deathly pale and lying unconscious in a disconcertingly large puddle of his own blood. Sirius limped over to Remus as best he could, but he himself was too hurt to transform back into his human state, and if he couldn't do that, he couldn't get to his wand. The hopelessness of the situation was too much, and Sirius let out a long, mournful howl before slumping to the ground in defeat as his injuries sent his world dark.

* * *

The entrance hall was an absolute mess.

Voldemort's forces had broken through the front doors less than half an hour into the battle, aided, no doubt, by the giants and their deadly clubs. Those Light fighters stationed in the entrance hall and the immediate vicinity had quickly gone to work, and the hall had been filled with multicolored lights shooting this way and that ever since. Thankfully, the giants had remained out in the grounds, but the Death Eaters were still more than formidable opponents, and they showed no signs of stopping, or even slowing, their assault.

 _"Protego!"_

The bright blue of Draco's shield charm shot forth from his wand just in time to prevent a nasty hex in a sickly-looking yellow from hitting Susan Bones, who had been momentarily distracted by a chunk of rubble falling from the ceiling. Susan gasped and whirled around, her eyes meeting Draco's in understanding as she quickly Disarmed the Death Eater who'd attempted to curse her.

"Thanks, Draco!" she shouted as she snapped the Death Eater's wand and tossed the pieces aside. Draco nodded but was stopped from replying by necessity – though Susan's Death Eater was now weaponless, three more had quickly taken his place, and Draco immediately began dueling the newcomers, Susan coming to help just moments later. As the two were stationed on the main landing of the marble staircase, they had to be doubly careful to ensure they didn't misstep and fall off – most of the balustrade had already been blown away, leaving no barrier between them and a significant drop to the unforgiving stone floor below.

 _Thank Merlin for the DA,_ Draco thought as he sent a jinx towards his nearest opponent. This fight was far worse than anything he could've imagined, and he strongly suspected they'd be in far worse trouble than they already were without all those hours of practice in the Room of Requirement.

After a solid ten minutes of hard dueling, he and Susan had managed to triumph over the three Death Eaters – the first had been less careful than they and had fallen off the landing; the second had been sent crashing into the far wall by the force of a combined spell; and the third, they'd Disarmed and left unconscious and bound in thick ropes. As there was no one else in their immediate vicinity, the two teenagers took a moment to sit back and assess the situation – many of their comrades had already shifted around over the course of the fighting, and if it looked like certain groups needed more help than others, Draco and Susan would move as well.

There definitely was no shortage of interesting fighting techniques on display. There were plenty of conventional duels going on, to be sure, but some of the fighters preferred alternative methods, most of which were drawing quite a bit of attention. Professor Trelawney stood on the opposite side of the staircase as Draco and Susan, armed with a seemingly endless supply of crystal balls, which she sent rocketing through the air with almost unnerving accuracy.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say she'd make a damn good Beater," Susan remarked as Trelawney took out another Death Eater, the crystal ball cracking him cleanly over the head.

"No kidding," Draco replied, unable to stop himself from chuckling a little. The thought of Trelawney playing Quidditch was downright absurd, but Susan did have a point – the woman had hit every single one of her targets thus far, and she still had plenty of ammunition.

Equally as interesting as Professor Trelawney was Julie, the American girl who Draco knew had shown Hermione, Ginny, and Tonks around Salem. Draco had heard the blonde girl telling Hermione about the secret weapon in her arsenal, and she'd finally unveiled it – Quods. Quods were the balls used in the American broom game Quodpot, so invented when a wizard intending to introduce Quidditch to the States accidentally blew up the Quaffle he'd brought along from England. Instead of bemoaning the destruction of his Quaffle, however, the wizard, who apparently had had quite a sense of humor, set out to recreate the exploding effect and invented a new game around that. The object of Quodpot, therefore, was to get the Quod into the specially-charmed pot before it blew up. Evidently, Julie had some skill in Charms, as she'd taken it one step further and altered the explosion feature on her stash of Quods so that they blew up on impact rather than at unpredictable intervals. Where she was hiding them, Draco had no idea – perhaps she had a bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it? – but the method was undoubtedly effective. She'd already knocked out half a dozen Death Eaters, and Draco looked up just in time to see her hit another, a smirk rivaling his own crossing her features as the masked figure crumpled to the ground.

On top of the flying crystal balls and Quods, Peeves had decided to make an appearance, and he'd sent several Death Eaters fleeing in terror at the mere sight of his gleeful expression – no matter what side you were on, if you'd gone to Hogwarts, you knew what Peeves was capable of and stayed far away at all costs. Some weren't so observant, however, and Peeves was busy taking advantage of this. After all, troublemaker though he was, Peeves was also fiercely loyal to Hogwarts, and seeing people attacking _his_ stomping grounds was a _big_ no-no. The poltergeist had wasted no time hanging a quartet of Death Eaters upside-down from the ceiling like some sort of weird mutant chrysalis, and those who'd evaded capture found themselves pelted with exploding inkwells, chalk, and dungbombs. Peeves cackled madly every time his missiles hit their mark, and Draco had never before been so glad to be on the same side as the little pest.

"I'm going to head that way," Susan said then, pointing towards a duel near the entrance to the Great Hall. Draco could spot Dean Thomas, Anthony Goldstein, and one of the Patil twins all locked in fierce combat, and they looked like they could definitely use an extra wand.

"Be careful," Draco replied. "I'll cover you from here."

"Thanks." Susan hugged him briefly before taking off down the stairs. Draco watched her closely as she made her way towards the others – the floors were slick with blood and the gemstones that had spilled from the broken house point hourglasses, and of course it was nearly impossible to keep an eye on every flying hex at once – but though Susan slipped once or twice, she made it to her destination otherwise unscathed. Now that Susan was with others, Draco began scanning the room for his own next move, but he hadn't taken two steps before a cloaked figure blocked his path.

"And just where do you think you're going?" The figure had its hood up, but the voice was definitely female. Before Draco could respond, she threw back her hood, and Draco looked into the face of a woman he hadn't seen in thirteen years.

"Aunt Bella." Bellatrix Lestrange smiled.

 _"Draco,_ darling, isn't it just wonderful to see you," she said, her voice simpering as though she were talking to a small child instead of a young man. "But not so wonderful to observe your spell work for the last half an hour or so," she added with a frown. "Fighting with the likes of Mudbloods and blood traitors, Draco? How very…disappointing. _What_ would your mother think?" Her wand hung loose at her side, but that meant very little, Draco knew – Bellatrix could draw her wand faster than anyone, could go from relaxed to _'Avada Kedavra'_ before you even had time to blink. She also boasted one of the most powerful _'Crucios'_ in Wizarding Britain, and if she'd still had any sliver of a conscience before being thrown into Azkaban, it was now long gone.

"Surely you've heard of keeping up appearances, Bellatrix?" Draco asked. Bellatrix tilted her head to one side, clearly confused. Draco couldn't help but notice that she was far more haggard than he remembered – he hadn't seen much of her during his childhood, but he recalled a witch who was rather beautiful, if not more than a little haughty, with dark eyes and hair that fell in rich, gleaming waves halfway down her back. Her eyes still sparkled in that way that only those who are truly mad can understand, but her hair was another story – it now hung in a tangled, matted mess that Draco was sure even the strongest beauty spells wouldn't be able to fix. Her robes were tattered and torn and stained with all sorts of unmentionable substances, and her wand…well, it was best if nobody thought too much about everything that wand had done.

"What do you mean, nephew dearest?" Bellatrix asked.

"Dear Auntie Bella, do you take me for a fool?" Draco leaned back against the wall, crossing one foot over the other as if he hadn't a care in the world, a wicked gleam in his grey eyes. "I'm a Slytherin for a reason. We do anything – _anything_ – to realize our goals, and I've pulled off the ultimate coup. After all, I have something nobody else has – thirteen years' worth of inside information on Harry Potter." Draco smirked in satisfaction as he watched his aunt's expression morph from one of confusion to one of absolute delight. She let out a girlish giggle, rather like a child on Christmas morning, and clapped her hands in anticipation.

"Well, that changes things, doesn't it?" she said breathlessly. "Come, Draco dear – I think we need to have a little chat."

* * *

 **A/N: There aren't words. Do you think J.K. Rowling cried when she killed off characters in canon? Because I definitely got _very_ upset writing that second segment... & we're nowhere near done. Brace yourselves...**

 **(Fairly useless) FYI: the info re: Quodpot came from _Quidditch Through the Ages._**

 **Thank you all for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! Hopefully you all got the memo about the previous chapter, as I did post it a few days late (it went up last Saturday vs. my usual Wednesday).**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	26. The Battle Continues

**A/N: Brief language warning in this chapter.**

* * *

Harry had been through a lot in his time at Hogwarts. He'd tackled an obstacle course meant for Auror trainees, survived a number of truly brutal Quidditch matches (not to mention the accompanying injuries), fought an enormous snake, competed in a dangerous tournament, ended up in St. Mungo's, and destroyed Horcruxes, among other things.

And yet in spite of this rather draining list, he'd never before felt as tired as he did now. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearing two in the morning – he'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours now, and Harry knew he was running on adrenaline more than anything else. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one – even Death Eaters need sleep, and Harry's opponents' movements were just as sluggish as his own, but that didn't mean they weren't still throwing every nasty curse in their arsenal his way. Harry ducked as a bright purple hex hit the wall above his head, sending bits of stone flying everywhere. The bright green of the Killing Curse was terrifying, to be sure, but the many other colors were almost worse – at least with that green, you knew exactly what the curse was going to do if it hit. Harry didn't even want to think about some of the things he'd seen so far this night – suffice it to say, some of those images were going to haunt his nightmares for a very long time indeed.

Harry had been forced to leave the clock tower some time ago when one of the giants succeeded in clubbing a massive hole in the side – Harry wasn't about to stick around to find out if the giant intended to continue its demolition work there or move on, and so he'd hurried into the grounds, where he'd been fighting ever since. He'd done well, he thought, for being so completely exhausted, but he couldn't expect his energy reserves to last forever. At some point, someone was bound to make a mistake, and he could only cross his fingers and hope that it wasn't him.

"Watch out!" someone called, and Harry turned just in time to move aside as Neville came hurrying forward, his arms full of what looked to be some sort of plant. The plant's tendrils began snaking along the ground and wrapping themselves around the nearest Death Eaters, and Harry realized his friend had figured out how to control Devil's Snare, the plant they'd encountered when they'd jumped down Fluffy's trapdoor six years earlier.

"Amazing what plants can do, eh?" Neville said conversationally, as if reading Harry's thoughts. The Devil's Snare continued to reel in its victims, making a noise of what sounded oddly like contentment as it did so. "You should see what Professor Sprout's been doing with the Venomous Tentaculas and the Bubotubers…" Harry hadn't seen much of their Herbology professor since the battle began, but he remembered enough about those particular specimens to know that whatever the Death Eaters were experiencing as a result was likely unpleasant. He chuckled a little in spite of himself.

"I can only imagine," he said drolly, causing Neville to laugh too. The Death Eaters were now bound back-to-back from head to toe – the Devil's Snare chirruped in satisfaction, tied itself off into a neat knot, and broke apart before slinking off in search of its next catch.

"You doing alright?" Neville asked then.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Harry replied. Neville made a noncommittal sound of what must have been agreement and shrugged.

"Aren't we all…"

Their part of the grounds was fairly quiet, so Harry took a moment to study his friend. Neville was covered in dirt from head to foot, and there was a large gash of some sort on his left arm, but although the wound was surrounded in dried blood, it didn't seem to be bothering him, nor was it actively bleeding. He'd grown quite a bit in the last year or so and was now both taller and broader than Harry, but though the physical changes were noticeable, they weren't the biggest draw. What was truly remarkable about Neville was how much he'd changed _mentally_ since their first year – Harry recalled the shy, quiet boy who mostly kept to himself and had next to no confidence in his academic abilities outside the Herbology greenhouses, and it was amazing how little that boy resembled the young man standing next to him. True, this Neville still wasn't going to be a Potions master anytime soon, but his magical ability – and by extension, his sense of self-worth – had grown exponentially. He'd proven himself time and time again in DA meetings, going so far as to become one of the group's leaders after Harry, Hermione, and Draco had gone into hiding, and he'd volunteered to help wherever they thought he'd be best without hesitation. Neville's loyalty was second to none – there really was no better person to call a friend.

 _Loyalty…_

Harry could have hit himself, it was so obvious.

"Neville!" he said quickly. "Listen, can we talk while you do your plant thing? It's kind of important." Neville chuckled at Harry's phrasing but nodded.

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "The plant's doing most of the work, anyway. What's up?"

"There's this prophecy," Harry began, but whatever he meant to say next was drowned out when someone screamed. The boys whipped their heads towards the sound, and Harry swore loudly as he saw what had caused the scream.

Acromantulas. Dozens of them.

The spiders were the size of large horses and came barreling out of the Forbidden Forest at top speed, their pincers clicking madly as they joined the fray. Nobody really seemed to know whose side they were on – the Death Eaters looked just as shocked by their appearance as the Order – and people began throwing hexes at the spiders from all over the battlefield. Like the giants, however, the Acromantulas weren't easily taken down, and the ensuing chaos was ugly.

"Watch out!" Harry shouted as he aimed a Stunner at the Acromantula bearing down on them. Neville only just managed to roll out of the way in time, some of the remaining Devil's Snare wrapping itself around one of the spider's legs. Neville shot his own spell at the spider's hairy underbelly, the creature hissing angrily as the spell made contact.

"So what's this about a prophecy?" he shouted as he continued to hex the spider.

"Do I really look like I have time to explain it in detail?" Harry called back. _"Sectumsempra!"_ The very idea of using the spell that could have easily killed his brother made him feel sick, but now was not the time to second-guess his actions. In any case, it was effective – the spell severed the spider's pincers clean off, blood raining down on them as the pincers fell to the ground.

"At the end of our second year, the Sorting Hat gave a prophecy about this battle," Harry explained between spells. "It mentioned a legend that dates back to the founders themselves, and I think you're meant to be a part of it."

 _"What?"_ Neville replied in shock, turning to gape at Harry.

"No time to explain," Harry repeated, "but it all makes sense – you definitely fit the characteristics, and you're friends with Luna-"

"What does my being friends with Luna have to do with anything?" Neville asked, now sounding more confused than anything else. Harry let out a frustrated whine and shot another spell at the spider but missed.

"Do you trust me?" he asked Neville.

"Yes," Neville replied without hesitation. "I do – I'd trust you with my life."

"Then trust me on this, please," Harry said. "There's going to be some sort of signal, and – wait, never mind about that. Just…when you can, you need to find Draco, Hermione, and Luna. Tell them I sent you, and that you need to be with them – I think they'll understand, and they can explain it to you."

"Harry, I-"

"Spider!" Harry shouted as a second Acromantula came their way. "Seriously, Nev, I'd give you more details if I could, but now is _really_ not the time! Help me take these things down!"

It was a mark of Neville's trust in Harry that he did just that. The two Gryffindors gave it their all against the spiders, even managing to Stun one or two with well-timed spells, but they couldn't best them all. A handful of the spiders managed to climb up and into the castle via the gaping holes left by the giants, their pincers clicking madly all the way. The clicking, combined with the horrible shrieking noise the spiders made when hit, was probably the worst thing Harry had ever heard in his life.

It was probably the worst thing Harry had ever heard…until the dragon showed up.

* * *

Pansy and Ginny hadn't seen much fighting compared to their comrades on the lower floors, but they'd still contributed a fair bit. Of course, keeping hidden under cloaks and Disillusionment Charms meant they'd had to be extra careful, but they couldn't risk anyone finding out that Pansy was here. Without an explanation from those few who understood her defection, the Order wouldn't take kindly to her presence at all, and being recognized by any Death Eaters who happened to know her from her time at Nott's house would be nothing short of disastrous. Percy had kept his word, though, and so far, the girls had been able to help without running into too much trouble. In fact, aside from a trio of lackey-level Death Eaters they'd taken down roughly fifteen minutes ago, they hadn't seen anyone in quite some time.

"Nice job with the bat bogies on that last one," Pansy commented. "Where'd you learn that one, anyway?"

"Dunno," Ginny replied with a shrug. "I was looking for something unique to call my own – you know, since my brothers had already done so many things before me, I needed a bit of a way to stand out. I think I found it in a book while doing research for a Defense essay, but I don't really remember. I just remember thinking it sounded like a memorable spell, and I found it came easily, so I stuck with it."

"You already stand out by being the only female Weasley," Pansy pointed out. "But I see your point." The girls lapsed into a lengthy, but not uncomfortable, silence before Ginny spoke again.

"What did you mean," she asked, "this morning, when you were asking Harry about the cup?" To her surprise, Pansy sighed.

"Are you sure you want to know that, Red?" she asked. "Because I really don't think you'll like the answer."

"Now you _really_ have to tell me," Ginny replied, raising her eyebrows in question. "You can't possibly say I'm not going to like your answer and then not give me said answer." Pansy sighed again.

"Fine," she said, "but don't say I didn't warn you." She tapped her wand absentmindedly against her leg, seemingly thinking about how best to word her response.

"I know about the Horcruxes," she finally said. Ginny gasped and hurriedly glanced up and down the corridor, her braid whipping against her cheeks as she did so.

"Don't say stuff like that out in the open!" she hissed. "How do we know someone isn't listening?"

"Have you got a way to ensure they don't?" Pansy countered. In reply, Ginny raised her wand.

 _"Muffliato,"_ she said. At Pansy's questioning look, she added, "Draco learned it from Snape – no one will be able to hear our conversation until I lift the spell." Pansy shrugged in apparent acceptance.

"Fair enough."

"Alright, then…so how do you know what Horcruxes are?" Ginny asked.

"Your golden girl is thorough, but even she isn't perfect," Pansy replied. Ginny glared at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that even Granger forgets things sometimes," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "Sweet Salazar, you jump to conclusions too quickly."

"Just tell your story, Parkinson."

"Fine, fine. Granger left her notes out one night, and I looked through them, alright?"

"You snooped through Hermione's notes?" Ginny asked.

"I had to find out what was going on somehow!" Pansy countered. "Merlin knows you lot weren't about to tell me! Do you know how damn infuriating it is to have to listen to a conversation that you only half understand?"

"Did you ever think you weren't _meant_ to understand any more of it?" Ginny hissed.

 _"Dammit,_ Weasley! Don't you understand? I already knew almost everything about them anyway, except for what they were called! Potter told us everything – what the Horcruxes were, which ones they'd found and which ones they were still after – the only thing he didn't give us was a name! And yes, I said 'us' – he didn't tell Lovegood either, and she's in the DA! But this is war, and I thought you knew by now that keeping secrets in war is dangerous – isn't Potter always griping about how much Dumbledore did that? And look where Dumbledore is now! He's dead and buried, while we're stuck trying to pick up the pieces!" Pansy slumped against the wall, her exhaustion apparent now that she'd finished her rant.

"I thought I'd convinced you to trust me," she muttered. "I thought we'd agreed that we're stronger together than apart…but I guess I was wrong." She sank to the floor and rested her arms on her bent knees, her wand held loosely in her fingers.

"I…" Ginny was at a loss for words. This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours she'd argued with the dark-haired Slytherin, and for the second time, Pansy was right. Harry _did_ often complain about Dumbledore's penchant for secret-keeping and the trouble it had gotten them into, and it would be wrong – not to mention hypocritical – for Ginny to withhold information from Pansy when she wholeheartedly agreed with Harry's reasoning.

"You're right," she sighed, sliding down to sit next to Pansy. "I'm being a judgmental bitch, as usual."

"I wouldn't necessarily go that far," Pansy countered. "But you _are_ being difficult." Ginny laughed.

"I am," she agreed, "and you're right – at first, it seemed like keeping the Horcrux knowledge with a select group of people was the right way to go, but now that those people are scattered all around the castle with no easy means of communication…well, it might not be such a good idea after all."

"Never mind that I already know all about the Horcruxes," Pansy reminded her.

"You have a point." Ginny paused. "So you know about the Horcruxes…but that doesn't explain why you told Harry what you did, or what you meant."

"Don't you find it odd that the cup reacted so differently?" Pansy asked. "From what Potter described, it was nothing like any of the others they'd seen destroyed. But why?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Ginny said. "Why, indeed…" She looked at Pansy shrewdly. "Hang on, are you saying you _know_ why?"

"'Know' is a bit of a strong word, I think, but I have an educated guess," Pansy replied. "When the other Horcruxes 'died', the soul bit inside screamed and then disappeared. The details vary a bit, of course, but that's the gist of it. But the cup didn't do that – it did something else instead."

"Which was?"

"That scar on Potter's forehead – it's too much of a coincidence that he starts seeing visions from the Dark… _Riddle's_ point of view after he gets cut by an object containing a piece of Riddle's soul. I don't think the soul bit inside the cup disappeared like you expected it to – I think it transferred instead."

"Transferred?" Ginny repeated, her eyes widening as she began to understand just what Pansy was implying. "You don't mean…"

"I do. Riddle put defense mechanisms on some of the other Horcruxes, didn't he? The ring carried a deadly curse, and the locket couldn't be harmed unless opened with Parseltongue, a skill very few people have – who's to say he didn't do something to the cup as well? He'd want to do everything in his power to ensure his Horcruxes were safe, and I'd say this is the ultimate move – have the soul bit transfer into the closest living thing upon attempted destruction, so that in order for that Horcrux to truly die…"

"The new host has to die too," Ginny finished breathlessly. "Oh, no…"

"I told you you wouldn't like my answer," Pansy said softly. "I'm sorry, Red, but there's nothing we can do – if Riddle's going to die, that Horcrux has to go."

Before Ginny could say anything further, a sudden noise just around the corner startled the girls and reminded them that they were still very much in the middle of a battle. They jumped to their feet, but only Ginny had time to recast her Disillusionment Charm before the intruder came into view.

"Well, well, well – Pansy, darling, how _lovely_ to see you."

"Nott," Pansy said stiffly. Theodore Nott chuckled, the dark sound sending chills up Ginny's spine.

"Is that how you greet your boyfriend, dearest? We haven't seen each other in _so_ long, after all." Pansy stood rooted to the spot, seemingly unable to move, her wand hanging limply by her side. Nott loped towards her with all the deadly grace of a panther, stopping only when he stood mere inches from his former housemate. He brought his hands up to cradle her face and pulled her in for a brief kiss. Ginny couldn't see Pansy's face, but she saw the other girl's shocked expression when Nott suddenly pulled back and slammed her against the wall, pinning her in place with his taller form. Pansy yelped in pain, her wand clattering to the ground.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" Nott hissed, all pleasant pretenses gone.

"Like I'd tell you," Pansy spat back. She crossed her fingers that Ginny wouldn't do anything stupid – the redhead was so much of a Gryffindor it was disgusting, but Pansy was in a very precarious position, and if Ginny revealed herself, it couldn't end well for either of them.

"Don't be cute, Pansy," Nott snapped. "The Dark Lord was furious when he found out you'd left, even more so when I couldn't tell him where you'd gone."

"That's not really my problem," Pansy said as nonchalantly as possible. "I didn't realize I was even important enough to be on his radar."

"Through me, yes," Nott retorted, "and your lengthy absence, both from my family home and from the battle tonight, doesn't look good. Don't tell me you've actually stooped to that prick Black's level?" He paused and examined Pansy's face for any tells, but she merely retained her defiant expression.

"Yes, that's it, isn't it?" Nott murmured. "I should've known…it's always been about Draco _fucking_ Black, hasn't it?"

"Oh, save it," Pansy snapped. "I've had enough of your bitching about him to last a lifetime." Nott didn't strike her, but he tightened his grip hard enough that Pansy was sure her shoulders would be bruised come morning.

"Have you forgotten what he did to us, Pansy?" Nott demanded. "That night in the common room, when he stripped us down to nothing, humiliated us in front of everyone?"

"Please," Pansy scoffed. "We were in second year…"

"That son of a bitch knew _exactly_ what he was doing, Pansy!" Nott nearly shouted. "We could've ruled Slytherin House, you and me! We could've had them eating from the palms of our hands, but Black ruined that, invoked a name he doesn't deserve! And he's been up on his bloody high horse ever since, parading around with Potter and preaching his equality bullshit! And you – you fancied yourself quite the little actress, didn't you, but I saw right through you – I always have. You're in love with the bastard, but it's time to face the music, _Parkinson_ – Black has _never_ loved you, and _he never will."_

"I think you're getting a little off topic, Theodore," Pansy said dryly. Ginny, who was mere paces away with her wand still trained on Nott, had to admire the other girl's nerve – even if Nott's rant was embellished by his anger, most of what he was saying was still true, to an extent, including the bits about Pansy once having feelings for Draco, and yet Pansy didn't so much as blink. Ginny would never have been able to be so expressionless if someone had attacked her heart like that.

"Are you serious right now?" Nott asked in disbelief. "After everything he did to you, you're _still_ defending him?"

"I said nothing whatsoever about Black," Pansy countered. She deliberately used Draco's surname, knowing his given name would only provoke Nott further. To her relief, Nott relaxed a bit.

"No, you didn't," he muttered. "Not with words, anyway." He paused and stared into her eyes once more. Pansy, to her credit, did not look away.

"The Dark Lord plans to call an armistice at some point during the battle," he said. At this declaration, Pansy did allow her confusion to show through.

"An armistice?" she asked. "Why?"

"Perhaps you haven't yet noticed, hidden away up here as you are, but the Dark Lord himself has yet to enter the battle," Nott explained. "He has allowed his forces to run unchecked, but he himself has stayed back – his target is Potter, and Potter alone."

"So why hasn't he come out to face Potter?" Pansy asked. "He can't possibly be that hard to find – knowing Potter, he's on the front lines."

"Be that as it may, the Dark Lord does not operate without reason," Nott said smoothly. "By allowing the battle to continue, he's ensured the deaths of many of Potter's allies – deaths that, knowing Potter and his insufferable hero complex, he will hold himself accountable for. Thus, if the Dark Lord calls a temporary armistice and promises no further harm should Potter turn himself over, Potter won't, in good conscience, be able to refuse."

Pansy mulled this explanation over for a minute. In spite of herself, she had to admit it was a good plan – Potter _wouldn't_ be able to refuse the offer, not with the way his mind worked, and especially not when Pansy was sure he knew what _she_ knew about the cup's Horcrux and his scar.

"And what does this have to do with me?" Pansy finally asked.

"Potter will hand himself over, there is no doubt about that," Nott replied. "If you value your life, you _will_ be there when it happens."

"Where?"

"The large clearing in the Forbidden Forest, the one that oaf took us to during Care of Magical Creatures when he showed us that unicorn."

"I'll be there."

"I'll see you soon, then." Nott finally released Pansy's upper arms, then leaned forward to drop one last mocking kiss on her cheek. He crouched down to pick up her fallen wand.

"Do keep track of your wand, dearest," he said sardonically. "The Dark Lord has no use for the useless." Without another word, he swept away and was gone.

"Why didn't you let me hex him?" Ginny demanded as she lifted her Disillusionment Charm. "And what do you mean, you'll be there?"

"Save it," Pansy hissed. "That's not what's important right now. You heard what he said about the armistice?"

"Of course I did, I heard every word of your conversation."

"Well, I hope you were paying attention, Weasley – we've got work to do."

* * *

Fred and George Weasley, pranksters extraordinaire, never thought they'd be in their element on a battlefield, of all places, but as it turns out, a battlefield suits Weasleys Wizard Wheezes extremely well. They'd lost count of the number of opponents they'd taken down just with dungbombs, stink pellets, and even Skiving Snackbox candies launched into unsuspecting Death Eaters' mouths – the resulting mess was rather disgusting, but it certainly did the trick, and the joke sweets felt far better on the soul than the Dark curses many others were using. Fred and George were proud Order members and fully believed in the cause, but that didn't mean they were about to start throwing Unforgivables if they could help it.

The presence of the dragon complicated things a bit, there was no doubt about that. It had been a while since either twin had picked up _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,_ but judging by the dragon's dark scales and the fact that they would've known if a non-native dragon was traipsing around Britain, they guessed it was a Hebridean Black. Where it had come from was another story – the Death Eaters might've coaxed it to come with them, or the creature might've just stumbled on the battle by accident, but whatever the reason, it was causing some serious problems. Patches of grass all over the front lawn were burning, and people kept having to duck out of the way to avoid being barbequed. The dragon kept swinging its tail as it flew, the sharp spike at the end gouging deep trenches into the earth, and its purple eyes gleamed as it surveyed the scene, contemplating its next move. It let out a terrible roar and dove, scattering everyone within a hundred-yard radius, before soaring back up again to fly in lazy loops above the castle.

The dragon wasn't the only thing airborne, either. The dragon tamers had taken to the air multiple times already, firing spells on the Death Eaters from above – now, however, they were forced to abandon the aerial assault in favor of attempting to subdue the dragon. In addition, the Hogwarts hippogriffs, Buckbeak in the lead, had joined the fight and were picking off Death Eaters right and left. It was oddly satisfying to watch a hippogriff latch onto a Death Eater with its sharp front claws and carry them off to be dropped in the lake.

Fred and George, for their part, weren't on the main lawn anymore. They'd successfully lured a group of about twenty Death Eaters to the Quidditch pitch and trapped them in. The pitch itself, including the surrounding stands, were rigged with all sorts of unpleasant surprises, and five or six of the Death Eaters had already gone down as they attempted to search the pitch for the elusive twins, who'd sequestered themselves away in the Gryffindor locker room.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Fred said as he ran a hand over his old locker. The base of it still had scuff marks from where he used to drop his Beater's bat without thinking, and he'd carved his initials into the back wall of the locker as well – the carving wasn't very big, but Fred had charmed it to sparkle every once in a while, meaning it would never go unnoticed. Let it never be said that a Weasley twin was ever accused of subtlety.

"That it does," George said with a chuckle. "Remember Oliver's pep talks? He used to stand here, like so" – he stood in the exact spot Oliver Wood had so often lectured from, his posture imitating that of his old Quidditch captain to a T – "and invoke the wrath of…basically everyone."

"And that was before the game had even started," Fred said fondly. "Good old Oliver…but what about what happened _on_ the pitch, eh? Harry's first game when he practically ate the Snitch, or the time Lockhart deboned Sirius…"

"Did Sirius ever get him back for that?" George asked.

"Dunno," Fred said. "I'm sure his Marauder side came out at some point."

The twins continued reminiscing, laughing over various Quidditch memories and wondering just what the thumps they kept hearing overhead were.

"D'you think that one was the trip wire we installed near the teachers' stands?" Fred asked.

"Or maybe the vanishing step we added not too far from that?" George suggested. Being the mischievous people they were, the twins couldn't resist poking their heads out of the locker room to check.

"Bollocks," Fred muttered. Several more Death Eaters had succumbed to the twin's traps, to be sure, but the stands on the opposite side of the field were now on fire, and it was only a matter of time before the blaze engulfed the entire stadium. They didn't know whether the fire was started courtesy of the dragon or one of the Death Eaters, but they did know it was a problem.

"The fire's unblocked the entrance to the stadium," George remarked, pointing to the aforementioned place.

"So it has," Fred agreed. Death Eaters were entering the stadium at an alarming rate.

"D'you think they know about the wards preventing anyone from leaving?"

"Doubt it – they wouldn't be coming in if they did."

"Hmm."

"You know what we have to do, don't you?"

"There have to be at least double the amount of Death Eaters in here now – of course I do."

"I think we knew it would come to this, didn't we?"

"Of course – we wouldn't have brought it otherwise."

The twins retreated back into the locker room for a moment before returning to the tunnel, their last trick in tow.

"Prototypes," George muttered as he set it up. "Never can tell with them."

"No time like the present," Fred said cheerfully.

At last – or perhaps all too soon – it was ready. The twins looked at each other.

"Ready for the next great adventure, Georgie?"

"As long as you're with me, Freddie, I'm ready for anything."

"Right, then. On three – one, two, three."

 _"Incendio."_ The twins spoke the spell together, sparks from both of their wands catching the firework's fuse. It might've been a prototype, but their aim was true, and exactly ten seconds later, the rocket launched and landed in the exact center of the Quidditch pitch.

There was no doubt in anyone's minds who was behind the colossal explosion that followed – the triple W blazed high above the Forbidden Forest, lighting up the sky clear as day all the way to Hogsmeade.

* * *

Harry thought he was beginning to understand Ron's fear of spiders.

He and Neville had been battling the things for what felt like years now, and the great bloody dragon wasn't helping. Barbequed Acromantula was something Harry hoped never to smell again. He did, however, get a vindictive pleasure out of seeing Buckbeak attacking what appeared to be a falcon, the hippogriff easily gaining the upper hand due to its superior size and strength. Hermione would be disappointed that she hadn't gotten a chance to tackle Krum herself, but she wouldn't be too upset – she'd always had a soft spot for Buckbeak, after all.

The entire grounds shook as something exploded, and Harry quickly covered his eyes against the sudden blinding light. Something huge was floating above the Forest – not the damn Dark Mark again? – but when Harry's eyes had adjusted enough to see properly again, he realized it was something much different: a bright blue triple W.

"What have you two done?" he whispered in horror. The explosion had seemingly come from the direction of the Quidditch pitch, but he couldn't see the pitch from his current vantage point…

"That's Fred and George's store logo, isn't it?" Neville asked.

"Yeah…"

"You don't think…?"

"I don't _want_ to think."

"No…"

The two boys stared up at the glittering firework for a long moment, each too caught up in the symbol's possible meanings to pay much attention to the outside world. A high, cold voice echoing across the grounds brought them back all too quickly:

 _"You have fought bravely – bravely, but foolishly. Foolish though you may be, Lord Voldemort sees little reason to spill magical blood unnecessarily. I command my forces to retreat, and I give you one hour to retrieve your dead, one hour to tend to your wounded. If, however, at the end of one hour, Harry Potter has not come to me, the battle recommences, and rest assured that this time, I will not be so merciful. One hour, Mr. Potter – one hour."_

* * *

 **A/N: Over 100,000 words - holy cow. Quite the chapter to hit that milestone...what do you think?**

 **A very merry Christmas to everyone celebrating tomorrow! I'm super excited - no matter how old I get, I'll always be a little kid when it comes to Christmas.**

 **Thank you, as always, for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading! This rollercoaster of a story isn't quite done yet...**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	27. The Hour Between

One hour.

It seemed to Harry to be at once both an exceptionally generous amount of time, and no time at all. Generous, because he'd never expected Voldemort to give them _any_ sort of reprieve, and nothing, because an hour was hardly enough time even to get the remaining fighters together in one place, never mind regroup, recuperate, and so forth. If other parts of Hogwarts looked anything like the clock tower, or the gaping hole in the outer wall he'd watched the Acromantulas crawl through, it would take those who'd been stationed in the upper floors of the castle quite some time just to make it to the Great Hall. They couldn't afford to waste a single minute – especially not Harry, who'd realized by now what he'd have to do by the time the hour was up. Pansy's words – and the terrible realization that came with them – had been lurking in the back of his mind since the start of the battle, and Harry knew that now was the time to act. He had a theory – a wild speculation at best, really – but if he was right, Voldemort himself was the only one who could kill the Horcrux within Harry's scar. If he was wrong, though…Harry shivered. He _really_ didn't want to think about that. If he was wrong, he was going to die, and Wizarding Britain as he knew it had about an hour left to exist. Pushing aside those morbid thoughts, Harry squared his shoulders and began to help with the dead and wounded. The wounded needed to see Madam Pomfrey and her team, and he needed to see Hermione.

* * *

Harry found his best friend in the Great Hall.

"Maya!" Hermione whirled around at the familiar voice and threw herself into Harry's arms.

"Oh, Harry! Thank Merlin you're alright!" Harry returned the embrace wholeheartedly, then stepped back to look Hermione over. Aside from being covered in dirt and scratch marks, she seemed otherwise unharmed – but then he noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks and frowned.

"Hermione?" he asked, gently reaching out to trace one of the tracks down her face and feeling more than a bit concerned to find it still wet. "What's wrong?" Hermione looked at him solemnly before turning her gaze to the person – or rather, the body – nearest her. Harry glanced down too and grimaced, pulling Hermione closer.

It was Eloise.

"Oh, Maya…" Harry stroked Hermione's hair as she cried silent tears into his shoulder. The two girls hadn't really spoken much at all until third year, but Eloise had proven herself a true friend – sticking up for Hermione when Lavender was being mean, being one of the first to join the DA, and providing quiet reassurance and support. She'd even accepted Harry's invitation to the Yule Ball, even though Harry was a champion and shy Eloise was terrified of any sort of attention. Harry had always thought Eloise was rather sweet, and he definitely understood why Hermione was so upset. He felt a twinge of pain every time someone walked by with another body – none of these people had deserved to die – but the pain was so much worse when the victim was someone he knew well. Thankfully, that had only happened a few times so far, but as far as Harry was concerned, _every_ loss was a loss too many.

Once Hermione had calmed down a bit, she told Harry what had happened to their friend. Those stationed in Ravenclaw tower had seen quite a bit of action, and the results weren't pleasant, to say the least. In spite of their best efforts – and they really had done well, especially with their advantageous elevated position – they'd lost a number of their group members, including the blonde girl who now lay motionless at Hermione's feet. Eloise had fought like a true Gryffindor, saving a fair few lives in the process, but they hadn't been able to save hers in return. The stray curse had come out of nowhere, and Eloise had succumbed to its effects not ten minutes before the armistice call. The horrible timing made her death even harder to take.

"The grounds weren't much better," Harry told her grimly. "Acromantulas, giants, a dragon…I think three of Charlie's friends are dead, and Oliver Wood took a nasty hex to his wand arm and wasn't able to do much after that – I think I saw him come in here a little while ago – and the Weasley twins…"

"They set off that firework?" Hermione asked.

"You saw that?" Harry wasn't sure, but he thought Ravenclaw tower faced the mountains, not the Quidditch pitch…

"Harry, I think all of Hogwarts saw it – they probably designed it that way," Hermione said.

"Yeah, well, I don't think it was a normal firework," Harry said quietly. "There was this massive explosion when it went off, and nobody's seen the twins since…"

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione breathed. "What did they do? I can't even imagine…"

"I know." Harry raked a shaky hand through his hair, which he knew had been a hopeless mess for hours now. He then looked around the Great Hall, his gaze coming to rest on two cots on the 'injured' side of the hall. One of them housed a very familiar shaggy black dog.

"What happened to Padfoot?" he demanded. Hermione shook her head and once again looked distraught.

"We don't know," she said. "Someone brought them in – Professor Lupin's there too – just as I got down here. Madam Pomfrey was able to patch Sirius up alright – she said it looked like he was stabbed while in his Animagus form and was too hurt to change back – but since he's still a dog, we don't know what happened to Professor Lupin. It must've been something awful, because he's fallen into some sort of magical coma and isn't responding to anything. Madam Pomfrey's been frantically trying to figure out how to get him to St. Mungo's – whatever happened to him, it's beyond her expertise, and if he doesn't get help soon…" Hermione couldn't bring herself to finish that particular thought aloud, but Harry understood her perfectly well. If Lupin didn't get help soon, he was going to die.

"But she can't focus solely on him, because so many other people still need help," Hermione added with a forlorn sigh.

"I hate this," Harry muttered. "None of these people deserve this…"

"No, they don't," Hermione agreed quietly. "It's awful, isn't it? And it isn't over – not yet."

"Which reminds me – where's that charmed bag of yours? I need something from it." Hermione gave Harry the bag without question – they'd all stashed everything they thought they might need inside of it, so it made sense that Harry might ask her for it. He rummaged around inside it for a moment, gave a little "Aha!", and extracted his hand, pocketing whatever it was he'd removed.

"By the way," Harry said as he closed the bag and handed it back to Hermione, "I know who the fourth member of the rings quartet is – it's Neville."

"Why didn't we think of that before?" Hermione mused, echoing Harry's thoughts when he'd first come to that conclusion. "It's obvious, really." She paused and looked around. "Where is he?"

"He's out in the greenhouses – he and Professor Sprout used a bunch of plants in their attack on the Death Eaters, and he figured he'd best not come in here with an armful of Venomous Tentacula." Hermione chuckled a little.

"That sounds like Neville," she agreed. "Have you told him?"

"Yeah – and I told him he had to come find you three, so I suspect you'll see him soon."

"Speaking of the others…you haven't seen Draco, have you?"

"No," Harry admitted with a frown. "He hasn't been back yet? He was stationed only a floor or two up from here..." Neither said anything further on the missing third of their trio – it was true that Draco hadn't been far from the Great Hall, which meant he'd probably already have been brought in if he'd been injured or worse, but if that wasn't the case, then where was he?

"What about Ginny?" Harry asked. "Have you seen Ginny?"

"I have," Hermione replied, "on my way down here. She kept to the upper floors mostly, and she said she wasn't going to come down – I think she still thinks her mum's going to go mental if she sees her, even though Ginny's been here for hours." Harry laughed.

"That does sound like Mrs. Weasley," he said. "But Ginny's alright?"

"Yes, she is," Hermione reassured him. "She actually needed something from my bag as well, come to think of it – I didn't see what she took, but she did have a couple of cuts, so it's possible she took a healing salve of some sort? Anyway, she said she had to head back upstairs – she's with Pansy, who still doesn't think revealing herself to the Order is a good idea – but she wanted me to know they're both alright."

"That's good, at least," Harry responded. "I hate that I can't see for myself, but it's good that you've seen her." He didn't mention Pansy – though he was glad she wasn't hurt, thoughts of the dark-haired girl just had him thinking of what he was about to do, and he didn't _want_ to think about that any more than was necessary.

"I have to go," Harry said then. "There's still a lot to do in the grounds, and I promised Tonks I'd come back out to help." He dropped a light kiss on Hermione's forehead and hugged her tightly.

"Be safe," he whispered.

"You too, Harry." Harry let go and hurried out of the Great Hall, hoping Hermione had missed the blatant lie. He had a destination in mind, but it wasn't wherever Tonks was. Some of his worry lessened when he ran into Draco in the entrance hall – like everyone else Harry had seen, Draco was covered from head to toe in dirt, blood, and other grime, but he didn't seem to be hurt. The brothers clapped each other on the shoulder and exchanged relieved words that the other was alright, and Harry allowed himself a brief moment to watch as Draco hurried to Hermione's side, the two embracing fiercely before whispering words of comfort as they grieved. Once he was sure they were alright, Harry left the castle and strode purposefully down the sloping lawn, taking care to avoid the gaping holes made by the Aurors' spells and the giants' clubs. He nodded to the few people he passed, making it look as though he was merely doing the same as everyone else, but he didn't stop walking until he'd reached the Forbidden Forest. Though the message hadn't said so, Harry suspected he would find Voldemort and the Death Eaters in one of the many clearings there.

Harry double-checked to make sure no one could see him and reached into his pocket, removing the item he'd taken from Hermione's bag. It was a Snitch, the one he'd caught in his very first Quidditch match and that Dumbledore had left Harry in his will. The hidden message engraved upon it, 'I open at the close', had stumped Harry and his friends when they'd first read it, but now, he thought he understood.

"This is the end," Harry whispered to the Snitch. He then pressed the cool metal to his lips, allowing the Snitch's flesh memory system to recognize his touch, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. The little ball was utterly still for just a handful of seconds before it cracked neatly in half, revealing a hidden cavity the perfect size for hiding something. Harry's suspicions about his theory only grew when he looked closely at the Gaunt family ring, the stone within engraved with a very familiar mark – the mark of the Deathly Hallows.

"Voldemort doesn't know about the Hallows," Harry said to himself. "He can't, otherwise he would've recognized this for what it was. Instead, he turned it into a Horcrux." The stone was cracked down the middle, tangible evidence that Dumbledore had indeed destroyed the evil within, but Harry somehow knew the imperfection wouldn't keep the stone from working as it was supposed to. Three Hallows, four rings, six Horcruxes…the Sorting Hat's prophecy was falling into place.

"Ghosts will be your cloak," Harry murmured, recalling another part of the prophecy. What better way to call ghosts than by using the Resurrection Stone? Taking a deep breath, Harry turned the stone over thrice in his hand, feeling another sharp pain in his chest as two very familiar figures emerged.

"Mum…Dad…"

* * *

A hooded figure stole quietly across Hogwarts' front lawn, taking care not to be seen. The armistice hour was still in effect, to be sure, but she still didn't want to draw attention to herself – she couldn't afford to get caught.

She was able to find a reasonable path through the trees, no doubt blasted by the Death Eaters, as it didn't seem to be one of the usual forest walkways. The clearing in which the Death Eaters gathered was less than five minutes' walk into the forest, and the young woman used every second of it to prepare herself for what lay ahead. Being in the presence of Death Eaters was one thing; being in _Voldemort's_ presence was another entirely.

Many of the Death Eaters were deep in conversation when she arrived, and she was just fine with that – her tardiness went unnoticed, and she slipped into the crowd with ease, quickly finding the man she sought.

"I'm here," she hissed, just loud enough that he could hear her. Theodore Nott gave a cold smile in response.

"You're late, dearest – but better late than not coming at all." He snaked an arm around her waist and drew her to his side. She shuddered inwardly but kept up her stoic mask.

"The hour is almost up," Nott whispered. "And when it ends, we'll have front-row seats to watch Potter die."

The shiver was much harder to hide this time. Thankfully, Nott was too excited to notice.

* * *

Harry walked calmly through the forest, the ghosts of his parents drifting along behind. He'd allowed himself a brief conversation with them, explaining his theories related to his scar, and all that had happened in the battle so far. They'd both promised to stay with Harry as long as they could, but Harry knew they would have to part soon – he couldn't have any distractions when he finally found Voldemort.

The clearing wasn't far into the forest – Harry could hear the Death Eaters talking even before he saw them. Evidently, they weren't too worried about anyone finding their location, as they were chatting like this was a meal in the Great Hall rather than the middle of a battle. Harry stopped on the edge of the clearing and turned to face the ghosts.

"You're so brave, sweetheart," Lily said softly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mum," Harry replied. "So much."

"Stay strong, son," James said, reaching out to pat Harry's head as best he could in his non-corporeal form. "Even if you won't be able to see us, we'll still be there with you."

"I know." Harry managed a small smile. "I love you both." James and Lily smiled, and Harry slipped the stone back into his pocket. Slowly, the ghosts disappeared, leaving Harry alone. Before he could talk himself out of what he was about to do, he turned and walked into the clearing.

"Well, well, well…" Voldemort smiled, the expression eerie on his snakelike features. "Harry Potter. I must confess, a small part of me wasn't expecting you to come…but then, I shouldn't have expected anything less from a Gryffindor."

"I am indeed a Gryffindor," Harry said calmly. He put his wand in his pocket with the Resurrection Stone – he didn't need either one now.

"Being a Gryffindor will do nothing for you when I kill you," Voldemort pointed out. Harry just shrugged.

"So be it." Voldemort narrowed his red eyes as if in contemplation, then smiled again and raised his wand.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

In the instant before the deadly curse hit him, Harry crossed his fingers and prayed to every deity he knew that he'd been right.

* * *

A sharp intake of breath zipped around the circle of Death Eaters, the assembled onlookers unable to hold in their surprise. Potter had dropped like a rock when the curse hit, but it was the Dark Lord who'd shocked them. He'd stumbled. Lord Voldemort had actually _stumbled._

"My Lord!" a woman's voice breathed. "Are you-"

"It is nothing," Voldemort said quickly, sharply. When the woman made to protest, he shot a hex her way and she flew backwards into a nearby tree, gasping at the harsh impact.

"You should know by now what happens when you question me, Bella," Voldemort said coldly. Bellatrix looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and defiant, but she didn't speak further. Voldemort nodded in satisfaction.

"Very good. Now…" He paused and slowly surveyed those standing around him. Their numbers were noticeably less than they'd been when they'd arrived. The losses were…unfortunate, but they'd have to make do. His red eyes scanned the crowd, stopping on the slender figure beside Theodore Nott. The person's hood was up, but judging by her positioning, he suspected it was Nott's girl. His mouth warped into a cruel smile.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Miss Parkinson…how nice of you to return." To her credit, the hooded figure didn't move, didn't show how unnerving the statement was. No doubt Voldemort had heard of Pansy's flight from the Nott home, and he wouldn't have been pleased with that knowledge.

"You seek a chance to redeem yourself – this is it." He hit her with a curse, the girl unable to mask her yelp of pain as the stinging sensation struck her. Voldemort pointed to the fallen body of Harry Potter.

"Tell me he is dead," he commanded. The figure nodded and stepped forward, stopping to kneel beside the motionless young man. Slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her ear to his chest.

She only just managed to hold back her gasp. The pulse was quiet, but it was there – somehow, some way, Harry was _alive._ By some miracle, he'd done what no witch or wizard had ever done before – been struck by the Killing Curse and lived to tell about it. She then saw the faint black mist trickling from Harry's scar and grinned, thankful her face was turned away from Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, and that it was dark enough that the mist was only noticeable up close. Harry was still alive, but the Horcrux was another story.

"Six are gone," she whispered, low enough that only Harry could hear. She then raised her head and her wand – a muttered incantation, and a stream of multicolored light rocketed upwards through the forest canopy to explode over the treetops. The trees were thick enough that she couldn't see her handiwork, but she knew what she'd see if she could – and if _that_ wasn't an obvious signal, nothing was.

"I don't remember calling for theatrics," Voldemort hissed, hitting her with another hex. This time, however, she held in her cry of pain, instead flashing a triumphant smile. Oh, if only he knew…

"My deepest apologies, my Lord," she said, bowing her head slightly, "but the celebration was warranted. Harry Potter is dead."

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter done - huzzah! And since this is probably the last chapter of 2015, I want to wish you all a very Happy New Year!**

 **Thank you for being the awesome readers you are - you guys are the best!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	28. The Rings Quartet

Bellatrix was the first to react.

"He's dead?" she whispered breathily, her body tense and her dark eyes wide with disbelief.

"He is dead," came the confirmation. Bellatrix's lips split into a wide grin, and she suddenly leapt to her feet – she'd still been sitting against the trunk of the tree she'd crashed into when Voldemort had cursed her – and began giggling madly, spinning herself in circles in some sort of wild war dance.

"Potter's dead! Potter's dead! The Potter brat is dead!" she sang, not unlike a small child playing at a rhyme game.

"Now, now, Bella, calm yourself," Voldemort said, but he too was smiling, the sight eerie and sinister on his snakelike features. Bellatrix pouted a little but stopped her dance, looking eagerly to her Lord for her next instructions.

"We must ensure those in the castle know what has happened," Voldemort said. "While Miss Parkinson's little pyrotechnics display was… _showy,_ they might not have gotten the message." He smiled again, and Pansy shivered a little, glad that Voldemort hadn't actually _seen_ what she'd shot into the sky. There was next to no chance of him understanding it, but he was smart enough to no doubt recognize that the fireworks carried a hidden message, and he would demand an explanation…an explanation she couldn't give without causing serious trouble.

"Miss Parkinson, fix his glasses – the Order must know without a doubt that it is Potter we bring to them. Travers, Macnair, release the half-giant – he can carry the body." Pansy only just managed to hold in her gasp of surprise – she'd been so preoccupied with other things that she hadn't even noticed Hagrid was there, tethered to a tree near the back of the group of Death Eaters. He'd been remarkably quiet – perhaps he was injured? – and was now crying steadily, fat tears dripping down his cheeks into his tangled beard. While the Death Eaters released Hagrid, Pansy bent to straighten Harry's glasses as Voldemort had asked.

Nobody noticed her slip Harry's wand up his sleeve, into the holster she knew was anchored on his forearm.

"It is done," Voldemort announced once Pansy had stepped back. He didn't think to ask about Harry's wand, for which Pansy was grateful – Harry was going to need it, and soon. Voldemort had Hagrid lift Harry into his arms, and the half-giant led the procession of Death Eaters out of the Forbidden Forest. Pansy made sure to stay close to Hagrid, and by extension, Harry. Things were bound to get ugly fast when Voldemort told the Order that Harry was 'dead', and she wanted to be able to get back to safety as quickly as possible – the plan depended on it.

* * *

Hermione and Draco were standing on the front steps of Hogwarts and puzzling over the odd fireworks they'd just seen when the Death Eaters approached, and as such, they were some of the first to recognize the limp form in Hagrid's arms.

 _"No,"_ Hermione whispered, shock almost palpable in her tone. "NO…"

"Harry Potter is dead!" Voldemort's voice carried easily over the assembled fighters. "I bring his body as proof that your so-called 'hero' is little more than a coward – while the rest of you so reverently tended to your fallen, he fled, and walked into his death with open arms. The battle is finished, the Order has fallen – take your place with me, or suffer the consequences…and this time, there will be _no_ armistice. Anyone who resists, man, woman, or child, will die."

Voldemort continued to talk even as many of the Order members and students shouted in protest, some sobbing outwardly, while others gaped at Harry's unmoving body in disbelief, but Hermione wasn't listening. She was too focused on something else.

"Lotte, what is it?" Draco asked, having noticed his fiancée's furrowed brow. Hermione looked up and met his gaze.

"Voldemort said Harry 'walked into his death with open arms'," she said. "Those fireworks over the forest we saw a few minutes ago – they looked like the number six…" She suddenly gasped and turned away, pushing her way back into the castle.

"Hermione, what-" Draco hurried after her, but Hermione didn't stop until she'd reached the base of the marble staircase, far enough away from any activity that they wouldn't be overheard.

"The fireworks looked like the number six," she said again. "We agreed we'd send a noticeable, unique signal when six Horcruxes were gone…"

"But the snake is still alive," Draco replied with a frown. The enormous reptile had been easy to spot, draped as it was around Voldemort's neck like some sort of lurid scarf.

"Yes, it is…but what if there was another Horcrux?" Hermione's question only left Draco looking more confused.

"I don't understand…"

"Harry, Draco. _Harry_ was a Horcrux. _That's_ what happened when the cup backfired – the Horcrux inside must've been charmed to transfer to whomever tried to destroy it, which in this case, was Harry. I don't understand how, or why, but somehow, someone in that forest understood this, and somehow, the Horcrux inside Harry is gone. If we say that the cup's backfiring counts as creating a second, separate Horcrux – which is entirely possible; there's no way that basilisk venom didn't destroy at least part of the soul bit in the cup, so the cup still counts as one – then six are gone: the diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, the diadem, and…Harry. We should still kill the snake to be sure, especially after what Padfoot told us about his encounter with it in Godric's Hollow, but even if the snake _is_ a Horcrux, we've still destroyed six of them."

"What does that mean for Harry himself?" Draco wondered. "Voldemort said he was…"

"I don't know if Harry's alive – but even if he's not, we have to keep going. Six of the Horcruxes are gone, which means it's time to activate the rings. There are only a handful of people who know the contents of that prophecy and what they mean, and you and I are two of them – we have to end this, Dragon."

"You're right, love – we do have to keep going." The couple paused and stood in silence as they contemplated that statement, neither one wanting to think about what they'd do if Harry was actually dead – the thought was too horrible, too heartbreaking.

"Have you seen Neville or Luna?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"Great Hall," Draco said at once. "They were both helping with the wounded." But there was no need for them to hunt for their friends – as if on cue, Neville and Luna stepped into the entrance hall, the latter smiling serenely when she caught sight of the couple at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is it time, then?" she asked. "I had a feeling it was."

"I'm still a bit confused about all this," Neville admitted, his cheeks turning pink at his confession. "Harry mentioned something about a prophecy and a legend, but then the Acromantulas turned up so he couldn't really explain it properly…"

"The legend pertains to the founders of Hogwarts," Hermione explained. "The founders knew they wouldn't live forever and wanted a way to protect Hogwarts should she ever be in danger, and so they created a set of rings that, when worn by acceptable candidates, could be used to channel the castle's magic for advanced protection."

"Acceptable candidates?" Neville repeated.

"The founders also recognized that these rings could do an exceptional amount of damage in the wrong hands, and so they charmed the rings so that only someone who embodied the prized qualities of a given house could wear that founder's ring."

"So Harry thinks I channel a certain house's characteristics," Neville mused. "He also said something about me being friends with Luna – what does that have to do with it?" Hermione nodded approvingly.

"You're asking good questions," she said. "The Sorting Hat's prophecy – did Harry mention that?" When Neville nodded, Hermione continued, "That prophecy sets further requirements for the ring wearers, in addition to those already put on the rings by the founders. The exact lines pertaining to the rings are _'Bronze and black together in friendship, silver and gold given freely in the name of the enemy's ignorance'_ – to put it simply, those who wear Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's rings must be friends, while the Gryffindor and Slytherin rings must go to a couple." Neville thought this over for a moment.

"So you and Draco are Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Luna must be Ravenclaw, which leaves Hufflepuff for me," he finally said. Hermione nodded again.

"Yes. You don't have to be in that particular house to wear the ring, you just have to embody the characteristics, and I think Harry's choice is spot-on – Hufflepuffs are hardworking, patient, and loyal, and I don't know anyone who ticks all three of those boxes better than you do." Neville's blush deepened a little at Hermione's praise, but he nodded in apparent understanding. The teenagers then turned and began climbing the stairs, Hermione in the lead.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked as they walked along the corridor.

"Astronomy tower," Hermione replied. "It just…feels right, somehow."

"We'll be able to channel the rings' magic without being in the middle of things," Luna said knowingly. "Although I'm sure we'll end up back on the ground sooner or later." The explanation seemed to make sense, because no one said anything further as they climbed the many staircases up to Hogwarts' tallest tower.

The Astronomy tower was open and exposed, but it had somehow escaped destruction in all the earlier fighting, and the sight of an undamaged space did wonders for the friends' battle-weary minds. Hermione and Draco undid their enchanted necklaces and slipped off the rings. Draco handed Neville the Hufflepuff ring while Luna took the Ravenclaw one from Hermione, and then Draco and Hermione exchanged their own rings, putting them on each other just in case – after all, the prophecy _was_ rather specific, and they wouldn't get a second chance to fix things if they did something wrong. Neville gasped appreciatively as his ring's glamour fell away, and he looked to see that the other rings had done the same, shining metals and priceless gems sparkling even in the low light. What really stunned the group, however, was the sheer _power_ radiating through the rings – now that all four were active, the teenagers could actually _feel_ the magic within both themselves and the stones beneath their feet, the latter a faint pulsing that reminded them of the constant ebb and flow of ocean waves.

"This is _incredible,"_ Hermione murmured. The others agreed, staring at the rings in awe as they acclimated themselves to the new sensations – no matter what sorts of magic they'd done up until now, nothing could compare, and nothing ever would.

The other unexpected change was the sudden instinct – in other words, once the rings were on, the quartet suddenly knew _exactly_ what they needed to do, almost as if the rings were giving them a nudge in the right direction. They had a feeling the rings would guide them as long as they needed, and so, putting their trust in the founders and the castle they'd called home since they were eleven, they took to their first task: to speak to the crowd assembled below. The rings pushed at Hermione the strongest, and so she stepped forward first, climbing right up onto the edge of the Astronomy tower.

"My name is Hermione Jean Granger," she said, the rings magnifying her voice better than any Sonorus Charm. Her fierce stance and defiant expression made her look like some sort of warrior princess, her wild curls whipping behind her even though there was no wind. "I am the daughter of Bob Granger and his late wife, Helen, best friend to Harry Potter, and fiancée to Draco Black. I am the Gryffindor who bridged centuries of house rivalries and animosity by falling in love with a Slytherin, and I gladly call members of all four houses my friends. I am a reader, a scholar, and a fighter for what I believe is right. I will go to the ends of the earth for those I love, and I am honored to know that they will do the same in return. But most importantly…I am _proud_ to be a Muggle-born." Hermione raised her wand – without any audible prompting on her part, her Kneazle Patronus burst forth, many times its usual size, followed by a second Patronus, this one the largest lion any of them had ever seen. It opened its mouth and let out a huge roar, and though there wasn't actually any sound to go with the gesture, all those who saw it couldn't help but tremble a little under the enormous cat's fierce gaze.

The rings guided Neville to speak next, and he clambered up to stand next to Hermione.

"My name is Neville Francis Longbottom, son of renowned Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. They sacrificed everything in their service to the Light, and I would do the same in a heartbeat. I am a Gryffindor, a proud member of Dumbledore's Army, and I will stand with Harry Potter until the day I die. I may not be the best wizard Hogwarts has to offer, but I will always do my best to do what is right, and as many of you have already found out the hard way, I know my way around a greenhouse. I fight for freedom and I fight for equality, but most importantly, I will avenge my parents by fighting hate with love." With a wave of his wand, Neville's Patronus, as well as a giant badger for Hufflepuff, joined the two animals already floating high above their heads.

"My name is Luna Cassandra Lovegood," Luna's lilting voice rang out as she took her place next to Neville and Hermione. "My parents, Xenophilius and his late wife, Pandora, valued exploration, knowledge, and curiosity, and I have always been encouraged to embrace and nurture all three. Some call me crazy while others call me prophetic, but I see myself as neither – I am simply a girl, a girl who is proud to stay true to herself rather than be one of a crowd. I belong to Ravenclaw House and hold deep respect for my founder…but while knowledge is a powerful and valuable tool, I fight for what is most important – friendship, which truly has no bounds." Luna raised her wand, sending forth a hare and a majestic eagle.

"My name is Draco Lucius Black." Draco joined the other three, looking every inch the pureblooded prince his heritage decreed him to be. "I am the son of the late Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and the last living member of this Sacred Twenty-Eight family. But I do not look to my blood – instead, I look to my family motto, _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper:_ Purity Always Conquers. Some might argue for purity of the blood, but I argue for something far more important – purity of the _heart._ I fight for Harry, and the best adoptive family anyone could ask for. I fight for my better half, a Gryffindor Muggle-born with a heart of gold, and the girl who helped me get back up when I was down on more occasions than I can count. I am the spare who fights for Sam, my late brother and the true Malfoy heir, and all the others who had their lives ripped away from them simply for who they are. Most importantly, I am _not_ my forefathers." The wolf and serpent completed the octet of silvery animals, the Patronuses lighting up the sky like the moon. Finished with their individual speeches, the teenagers grasped hands and spoke as one.

"We fight for Hogwarts, for _all_ of the witches and wizards who have called her home, and we will not stand down until she is safe once more!"

Their conjurers' declaration still ringing in the air, the Patronus animals suddenly dove towards the crowd below, and the rings quartet completed their next task: still linked together, they took one last look at the scene before them, one last look at each other, and jumped.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy New Year! This chapter's a bit on the shorter side, but it ended exactly where I wanted it to. Only one or two more chapters left (including a surprise or two in the next one...)**

 **I chose Luna's middle name after the celebrated Seer Cassandra Vablatsky - given Luna's tendency to understand things in a way others can't, I thought it was appropriate.**

 **Thank you all for the follows/faves/reviews (yes, I did finally get to read the latest ones now that the glitch is fixed!) & for reading - you really do make my day!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play - please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	29. This is the End

Harry was grateful that the rings quartet had successfully captured the attention of everyone on the battlefield, because it meant that he too could watch the goings-on unnoticed. The display was unlike anything he'd ever seen before – his friends positively radiated power, and the giant Patronuses were at once the most terrifying and the most awe-inspiring things Harry had ever seen. In spite of the great distance between his prone position on the lawn and his friends' stance atop the Astronomy tower, Harry could see them easily, and he had to bite back a gasp of horror when he saw them clasp hands and jump. Instead of plummeting to their deaths, however, the quartet landed on the backs of the waiting Patronuses, which then swiftly transported them to ground level with both speed and grace. The astonished looks on the faces of the Light fighters and Death Eaters alike just confirmed that the sight was probably the most unexpected since the time of the founders themselves, and everyone waited with bated breath for the quartet to speak.

"We said we'd defend Hogwarts 'til the very end," Hermione said calmly. "Well…here we are."

That was all anyone needed.

All hell broke loose as the fighting began anew. Skirmishes broke out all over the lawn as spells flew this way and that, and the Death Eaters quickly learned that the rings quartet would not be easily subdued. Even split up – as soon as the battle had recommenced, Luna and Neville had gone one way, Draco and Hermione another – they were still formidable, and far more powerful than anyone else in the vicinity. Harry swore he saw Neville seal a trio of Death Eaters inside an enormous cage of dirt just by raising his hands, and Hermione was firing spells at an inhuman rate. Deciding he'd best make his move so as not to get trampled, Harry whipped the invisibility cloak from his pocket, threw it over himself, and leapt to his feet, quickly moving sideways into the shadow of the front steps. From his new vantage point, he could easily see everything that was going on – a crucial detail if he was going to successfully confront Voldemort sometime in the very near future – but he was far enough away that he wasn't in any danger of being hit by stray curses.

As he watched, Harry contemplated the bizarre series of events that had taken place in the Forbidden Forest. Pansy seemed to know far too much, and the thought unsettled him – not because he didn't trust her, but because he didn't know how the dark-haired girl had gotten her information in the first place. Yes, Pansy had heard the prophecy, so her whispered "Six are gone" wasn't all that unusual. On the other hand, though, she'd raised her wand and sent up what was obviously a signal to the others that it was time to activate the rings…but Pansy hadn't known about the signal, nor was Harry certain that she might've come to such a conclusion on her own. Pansy was smart enough, he'd give her that, but she didn't know any of them well enough to know how they thought. Harry was also almost positive he'd never showed Pansy his wand holster – he'd never worn it around Grimmauld Place and before tonight had only ever worn it at all during DA meetings, as it was a bit impractical for everyday wear. How, then, had Pansy known it was there? She hadn't even fumbled for it, just pushed the wand straight up his sleeve and right into its proper spot as if she'd done it a thousand times before. Once again, Harry had too many questions and not enough answers. Ignoring his frustration for the moment, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and concentrated on the scene before him – at some point, someone was bound to notice that he'd disappeared, and then things would _really_ get interesting…

* * *

All his life, Draco had never found anything quite as exhilarating as a steep downward spiral on a racing broom…that is, until he took a ride on the back of a Patronus. He'd leapt back into the battle without a moment's hesitation, taking on Death Eaters left and right as the glittering ring he wore kept him energized and even fended off the worst of his opponents' attacks. He'd yet to pull any fancy tricks like Neville's earth manipulation, nor was he throwing spells quite as rapidly as Hermione, who was dueling Dolohov with a vengeance, but that was alright – it was more than enough that he was part of the quartet chosen to protect the school they all loved like a second home.

"Draco, duck!"

Draco did as the voice commanded, dropping down on all fours to avoid a nasty curse that hissed as it collided with the stone behind him. As he hopped to his feet once more, he caught sight of the familiar face of his cousin.

"Wotcher," Tonks said, shooting another spell and smirking in satisfaction as it hit its mark and the Death Eater toppled face first into the dirt. The two cousins began working together to take down as many Death Eaters as they could, but then another familiar face – this one far less welcome – stepped into view. Tonks and Bellatrix immediately began exchanging curses – Draco didn't recognize them all, but judging by their poisonous hues, he doubted his aunt and cousin were sticking to Stunning Charms.

"Well, well," Bellatrix said as she continued to throw hexes towards her niece. "Draco, darling, I must admit I'm a little bit confused."

"Auntie Bella," Draco replied calmly. He discreetly deflected one of Bellatrix's nastier curses, sending it upwards where it shattered against a gargoyle, the unfortunate stone creature blasting apart into millions of tiny pieces. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"What I mean," Bellatrix replied, her wand work not stopping in the slightest, "is that we had such a nice little chat earlier…such a nice chat, and yet you stand here beside… _that."_ A bright pink hex flew from her wand, Tonks only just managing to deflect it, and Draco had no doubt as to what Bellatrix meant. She had no words to express Andromeda's traitor status, no words to describe her disinherited niece. Draco smirked. His moment had finally come.

"Ah, yes…our little chat. Tell me, Bellatrix – what exactly did I tell you?" Bellatrix's wand actually dropped a fraction as she paused to consider her answer, and Draco was proud to see Tonks not drawing attention to the relief she felt at the brief respite.

"You told me you had thirteen years' worth of intelligence on Harry Potter, and then you told me all sorts of wonderful things – not that it matters now, since Potter's _dead_ " – here she paused and let loose one of her maddening giggles – "but that information might still prove useful against his loved ones, eh?"

"Yes, yes," Draco said, waving her off almost impatiently. "I did indeed tell you I had thirteen years' worth of information…but what _exactly_ did I tell you?"

"Everything!" Bellatrix cried. "You told me everything! You told me Potter supports Puddlemere United and that his favorite color is blue! He's not a fan of maths but likes Charms, and he won't eat broccoli no matter how much you bribe him! He's terrible at Gobstones and not much better at chess, and-"

"His first crush was Jessie Alston, the pianist for the singing group the Kneazles, although he'll never, ever admit that he even listened to their music," Draco finished, his smirk broadening as he caught sight of the amused look on his cousin's face. Clearly, she'd caught on.

"Yes, that!" Bellatrix said eagerly.

"Dear Auntie Bella…are you even listening to what you're saying?" Draco asked.

"I'm telling you everything you told me about Potter!" Bellatrix replied immediately. Tonks snorted.

"You just told us his favorite color, his least favorite food, and his secret celebrity crush," she said pointedly.

"But Draco-"

"I said I had thirteen years' worth of information on Harry," Draco said, examining his nails to hide his smile. "I never said I was going to tell you anything _useful."_ Bellatrix's expression morphed from one of confusion to one of rage.

"You tricked me," she hissed. "You _tricked_ me, you little brat! You're worse than your good-for-nothing father!"

"I'll skip the comparisons to Lucius, if you don't mind," Draco drawled. "After all, I'm rather proud to be a _Black."_ Bellatrix snarled in reply and then attacked, her spells flying faster than any they'd yet seen. Bits of rubble flew in all directions as her spells hit anywhere but their marks – it was lucky she was in such a blind rage, Draco thought, or he and Tonks would've been blasted to smithereens by now. Bellatrix whipped a dagger from her robes and threw it straight at Draco, but Draco's quick reflexes had his own knife knocking the wicked-looking blade to the side an instant later. He took a few precious seconds to destroy the dagger with a well-placed curse – it wouldn't do to have Bellatrix Summon it again, especially if it were laced with poison like he suspected. Bellatrix took advantage of Draco's momentary distraction to send a _Crucio_ towards Tonks, and Draco only just managed to put up a Shield Charm in time, the curse missing his cousin by inches.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

All three combatants whirled around to find Andromeda Tonks charging across the lawn, Sirius close behind. The two newcomers jumped into the fray, wands blazing, and Bellatrix's eyes gleamed wickedly as she focused on her new opponents and the quintet began to duel in earnest. Though there were others close by, they stayed away by unspoken agreement – this was the battle of the Blacks, and as it had started that way, so it would stay until the very end.

* * *

Harry was in awe. Hermione had just won her duel with Dolohov in spectacular fashion, her mother's killer now crumpled and bleeding in a heap on the lawn, and Draco…Harry had somehow heard the entire exchange between Draco and Bellatrix, and while he resolved to _murder_ his brother for revealing his childhood crush on Jessie Alston, he had to admit Draco's plan had been absolutely brilliant. Harry had no idea why Draco had had to have such a conversation with Bellatrix in the first place, but the blond had pulled off a deception that would've made Salazar Slytherin himself proud. Harry's heart had leapt for joy when Sirius had gone barreling across the lawn after Andromeda, and the five-way duel now ongoing amongst the last remaining members of the Black family was a sight to behold. As much as he wanted to, however, he couldn't continue to just sit back and watch – Voldemort wasn't going to let this go on forever, and Harry was damned if he was going to end this on anything but his own terms. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the Resurrection Stone once more.

"Ghosts will be your cloak," he said, repeating the phrase from the prophecy he'd spoken in the Forest. He turned the stone over three times just as before, but this time, shadows of _everyone_ who'd died over the course of the war began to pour forth from the stone. Hundreds of ghosts – far too many, Harry thought sadly – emerged, some alone, some in pairs or other small groups, and began to slowly form a giant circle around the decimated lawn. He felt an extra pang of grief every time he recognized a face – his parents, Hermione's mother, Cedric, Eloise, Lavender, Seamus, Roger Davies, one of the girls from Durmstrang, Bastien…and, to his horror, Remus Lupin, although his ghost didn't look quite so… _there_ as the others. Could this be, perhaps, because Remus wasn't yet dead, only hovering on the edge of it? Harry preferred not to think about it.

On and on the ghosts marched, and it was no time at all before someone noticed, and the crowd of fighters hastily backed away, afraid of the newest arrivals. Some duels, most notably that of the five Blacks, continued without interruption, but many stopped to watch the ghosts' progress, and to wonder where they'd come from, and what would come next. Harry, deciding that he'd postponed his entrance long enough, followed the ghosts, coming to a stop some fifteen feet from Voldemort, though he was still hidden by his cloak. Just to his left stood Pansy, still concealed by her own cloak but identifiable by her stature, and he could also see Luna, Neville, and Hermione. Strengthened by the sight of his loved ones, Harry removed the cloak at last.

"Hello, Tom," he said. "Are you quite finished killing my friends and family?"

Shocked gasps and screams rang throughout the grounds as the news of Harry's reappearance spread rapidly, but Harry took no notice. He only had eyes for the shell of a man who stood before him, the monster who'd wanted him dead when he was but an infant.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort replied, the anger in his tone unmistakable. His snake slithered from his shoulders to coil at his feet, hissing ominously all the while. Harry couldn't understand the hissing and inwardly smiled, his lack of comprehension only adding to his theory about his scar, but the snake was still a huge problem. The beast was the only thing still in the way of ridding the world of Voldemort for good… _but how to do it?_ If the snake really _was_ a Horcrux, then a simple spell wouldn't do the trick – and even if it could, Voldemort would deflect the attempt faster than Harry could blink, and then he'd really be in trouble.

"I killed you in the Forest, and yet you stand before me," Voldemort continued in little more than a whisper. "How is this possible?" His eyes focused on someone stood just behind Pansy.

"Severus – you said the boy would come. You said this plan would work."

"And come he did, my lord," Snape replied evenly. "Did he not?"

"That does not explain his continued presence!" Voldemort said angrily. "Harry Potter should be dead, and yet he is not! _What happened?"_

"I'm afraid I don't know, my lord."

Voldemort paused to consider this. By now, the only people still dueling were the Blacks, everyone else having stopped to watch. One of the duelists yelped, but nobody paused to check who it was.

"Severus. I put you in charge of my school, made you headmaster of this fine institution. I gave you Alecto and Amycus Carrow to help maintain order and carry on the traditions in the name of the greatest of the Hogwarts four, Salazar Slytherin – and yet I do not see your fellow servants with you."

"I cannot account for all of my colleagues, no," Snape replied.

"Hmm. Would you say you have done so?"

"Pardon, my lord?"

"Would you say you have upheld the traditions of Salazar Slytherin?"

"You yourself are aware of the Muggle-born Registration Commission, my lord," Snape said. "Only those of Wizarding heritage have walked these halls this term."

"I see…and yet I still see four banners instead of one. I wonder…" Voldemort raised his wand. There was a distant crash, and something dark came flying from an upper window of the castle. It wasn't until Voldemort held the object in hand that Harry recognized it – the Sorting Hat.

"The colors of Slytherin shall more than suffice for all students of Hogwarts from now on," Voldemort announced. "Too many generations of students have succumbed to this piece of filth, a _hat_ belonging to _Godric Gryffindor."_ He spat the founder's name like a curse. "Miss Parkinson." The cloaked figure nearest Harry jumped.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Unfortunate as the Sorting situation may be, you were still found worthy of the House of Slytherin. You, therefore, will have the honor of destroying the Sorting Hat – _after_ I have finished dealing with your headmaster." Voldemort tossed the hat at her feet.

"Yes, my lord." Pansy bowed her head quickly. Harry frowned. Was it just his imagination, or did Pansy's voice sound funny? And why was Voldemort so determined to take his anger out on Snape? As far as Harry knew, Voldemort still viewed Snape as a loyal Death Eater…

"Severus…I've always considered you a faithful servant. Would you agree?"

"My loyalties have never wavered." Involuntarily, Snape's gaze flicked briefly to the ghost of Lily Evans Potter. Harry, who stood just in front of his mother, felt his eyes widen in horror and prayed with everything he had that Voldemort hadn't noticed.

But he had. Oh, he had.

"Your loyalties have never wavered. How…touching," he said with an evil smile. To his credit, Snape didn't show any signs of dismay – he didn't even blink – but it was too late.

"You've betrayed me, Severus," Voldemort said softly. "Betrayed me, and for a Mudblood. I do not take kindly to this treachery." He hissed sharply. Before Harry could realize what Voldemort had done, the snake had streaked across the grass quick as lightning and embedded its fangs in Snape's side. Snape gasped in pain and fell to his knees – Harry desperately wanted to help, but the snake was now circling Snape's form, making it impossible for anyone to get any closer.

"I regret it," Voldemort said coldly, his tone saying quite plainly that he felt no such remorse. Snape, however, only had eyes for Lily, whose eyes glistened with tears.

"After all this time?" she asked. Snape smiled softly.

"Always." The tears slipped from Lily's eyes and rolled gently down her cheeks as Snape succumbed to his injuries and fell unconscious. Voldemort sneered at the scene.

"He made his choice. Now, Miss Parkinson – the hat."

"With all due respect, I don't think I shall."

"Excuse me?" Voldemort demanded. Harry looked at Pansy in shock. That was definitely _not_ a Pansy-esque response, not at all…and he hadn't been hearing things earlier; her voice _did_ sound odd…

"It is a historical artifact, after all," Pansy said calmly. "Besides, I have quite the history with this hat – and snakes." Before Harry could process the impossible – _surely_ his perceptions of the last hour or so hadn't just been turned upside-down! – and before anyone else could react, the girl reached into the hat, removed a gleaming silver sword, and sliced the snake's head off in one fell swoop. The severed head hit the ground with a _thump,_ and, sword of Gryffindor in hand, the girl threw back her hood at last to reveal someone who was definitely _not_ Pansy Parkinson.

"Hello, Tom," Ginny Weasley said, parroting Harry's earlier greeting. "Remember me?"

Harry could only gape at his girlfriend. Her presence explained so much, yet it also opened up a thousand new questions. What was she _doing_ here? He snapped out of his daze too late, horrified as Voldemort roared with rage and shot a curse Ginny's way, but Ginny merely raised her sword and defected the curse with the blade.

"Basilisk venom!" she said. "Powerful stuff, isn't it, Tom? Perfect for ridding the world of unwanted souls." Harry grinned when he saw the unnerved expression on Voldemort's face.

"That's right, Tom," he added. "The diary…the ring…the locket…the cup…the diadem…the snake…and even the unexpected one" – he paused and tapped his forehead – "they're all gone. It's just you and me now."

"And you think just because you discovered my secret that you can beat me, is that it, boy?" Voldemort sneered.

"I don't think I can – I _know_ I can," Harry replied calmly. "Do you want to know why?"

"I don't think it matters _why."_

"Oh, but it does." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry was pleased to see several Order members carrying Snape's limp form to safety – he was still unconscious and covered in blood, but maybe they could get him help in time. Maybe there was still hope.

"It does matter," Harry continued. "And it all comes down to that wand in your hand."

"My wand?"

"Yes. The Elder Wand, the Deathstick – quite a formidable history it has, isn't it? Unsurpassed in power and ability…and yet, I suspect it's worked for you just like any other wand."

"The Elder Wand has more than proven its worth!" Voldemort retorted.

"Ah, but has it?" Harry countered. "You see, the legends all say that the Elder Wand must be beaten to fully secede to a new owner."

"I stole the wand from Dumbledore's tomb!"

"Yes, you did – _but that didn't change the wand's allegiance._ You see, Tom, the Elder Wand had already recognized a new master, someone who never even realized he'd won the allegiance of the world's most dangerous wand…"

"Who?" Voldemort demanded to know. "Who could have possibly overpowered Dumbledore?"

"Why, your servant of course – Theodore Nott. I was there, you know, the night Dumbledore died. Nott Disarmed Dumbledore mere minutes before he killed him, fleeing the tower soon after without realizing what had happened."

"And so I shall just have to take care of Nott first," Voldemort said easily, but Harry shook his head.

"It's not that simple, Tom, because that's not all. You see, _I_ Disarmed Nott right after he killed Dumbledore – Nott left that tower without a wand." Harry held up the wand in his hand.

"Do you really want to know how I lived while the Horcrux within me did not?" he asked quietly. "It's because that wand in your hand recognizes another master, so while it killed the parasite within, it wouldn't – it _won't –_ turn its back on me." He raised Nott's wand once more. Around the two foes, all was quiet – even the Black duel had stopped for now, the combatants somehow understanding the importance of what was about to happen.

"So this is it, then – just you and me, Tom. Only one of us can walk away – who's it going to be?" Voldemort raised his own wand in reply, his red eyes narrowed maliciously.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

Red light met green in a blinding collision, smoke obscuring the contest from view. When at last all was clear once more, the ghosts were gone, and only one wizard was left standing. Exhausted and in pain, Harry collapsed to his knees, his wand falling to the grass beside him.

Voldemort was dead. The Battle of Hogwarts was over.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that was a whirlwind of a chapter...I'd love to know what you thought!**

 **Guys...there's only 1 more chapter after this - & it's short, so I might actually get it up today. I'm not sure how I feel about this.**

 **Thank you, as always, for the follows/faves/reviews, & for reading!**

 **JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Please R &R, & enjoy! :)**


	30. The Final Chapter

Sometime later, Harry stood alone at the top of the Astronomy tower, surveying the scene below and contemplating everything that had happened over the last thirty-odd hours. So much had happened that he could hardly believe it had barely been a day since he'd woken from his nightmare at Grimmauld Place. The flight to Hogwarts, the preparations, the fighting, the trip into the Forbidden Forest, the final confrontation…so many things could have gone horribly wrong, and Harry knew he was lucky to have come out unscathed. His heart hurt as he thought of all those who hadn't been so fortunate, and all of those still fighting for their lives as they struggled with serious injuries. Their numbers were far too high, and Madam Pomfrey and her team were still trying to figure out how best to get some of them to St. Mungo's without causing further harm.

"Hey."

Harry turned at the soft voice to see Draco and Hermione standing at the entrance to the tower, their fingers loosely intertwined. Though they were both filthy and obviously exhausted, neither were badly hurt, and when Hermione offered Harry a small smile, he rushed forward to embrace them.

"It's over," Hermione murmured as she stroked Harry's hair and squeezed the hand of Draco's still linked with her own. "I can't believe it's over."

"Me neither," Harry replied just as quietly. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"But it's not going to," Draco said. "It really is over."

"Yeah." The trio gently disengaged from their hug and moved slowly over to the edge of the tower, standing all together as they looked out over the grounds. Charlie Weasley's friends had somehow managed to corral the dragon, but many patches of grass were still smoking slightly from the beast's fire, and the lawn was littered with bodies, both wounded and dead, still requiring attention. The able-bodied were doing their best, but there was just so much to do. Any Aurors who hadn't been hurt had gone after the surviving Death Eaters, taking as many into custody at Hogwarts as they could before hastily tracing the flight of those few who'd gotten away. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who'd been named interim Minister of Magic, was busy dealing with the bureaucratic side of things, and a team of Hogwarts professors was working to ensure that the castle's wards were undamaged and impenetrable. They were extremely vulnerable in their current situation, and so they had to do everything in their power to combat that, no matter how exhausted they all were. Harry had initially felt bad about not helping, but then Professor McGonagall had insisted he'd done more than enough already and had sent him off for some much-needed alone time.

Immediately after Voldemort had fallen, Harry had barely noticed the mass chaos erupting all around him. The Light fighters had exploded with cheers that the one who'd plagued their lives for so long was finally dead, Voldemort's motionless form serving as an unexpected boost of energy as they took down the remaining Death Eaters with renewed vigor. Harry had been particularly pleased to see Theodore Nott tumbling down the hill, bound from head to foot in thick ropes courtesy of Pansy, who was shouting something about payback and looking more pleased than he'd ever seen her. Bellatrix Lestrange, apoplectic with rage, had let out a primal scream just before five spells crashed into her chest simultaneously and she toppled over, as dead as her master. The first four spells had come from Draco, Tonks, Sirius, and Andromeda, the four Blacks who'd fought her so fiercely right from the beginning, but they'd all looked at each other in confusion for a moment as they attempted to discover who'd cast the fifth spell. Then, the answer to their silent questions stepped forward.

"Sorry to intrude on the family party," Neville said quietly. "But…that was for my parents." Draco had merely nodded and clapped Neville on the back, glad that the Gryffindor had finally found some sense of peace.

Once the Death Eaters had been apprehended, the remaining fighters had all wanted to congratulate Harry, to pat him on the back, to speak with him, to shake his hand. It had very quickly gotten to be too much, and that was when Professor McGonagall had stepped in – Harry had never been so grateful for his Head of House's keen intuition and protective instincts. Unable to sleep with so many thoughts plaguing him, he'd been up in the Astronomy tower ever since, and aside from a brief visit from Peeves, who was busy making up a rude little ditty about everything that had just transpired, he'd been alone until Draco and Hermione's arrival.

"Have you spoken with Ginny?" Hermione asked Harry. He nodded.

"Yeah – only briefly, though, right after the battle. Her family needs some time alone right now."

"Still no word on the twins?" Draco asked. Harry sighed heavily and pointed across the grounds.

"Look at the Quidditch pitch, Drake," he said quietly. They all looked – but in reality, they weren't looking at the Quidditch pitch at all, but rather what was left of it…which was absolutely nothing. Where the Quidditch pitch had once stood was now a gaping black hole.

"Fred and George spent almost all of their time before the battle rigging the stadium with all sorts of traps," Harry explained, his voice thick. "The last anyone saw of them, they were heading that way, and their Weasley firework appeared just after the explosion that destroyed the pitch. I swear I saw a set of twins amongst the ghosts from the Resurrection Stone – I didn't dare look closer to confirm it, but you have to admit the evidence doesn't look good." The three friends bowed their heads in silence at the terrible thought of having lost the Weasley twins, who'd provided far more than just amusing entertainment over the last seven years. The proof still wasn't concrete, but it was pretty convincing, and if they really had died…yes, they could see why the Weasleys would want to be alone.

"What exactly happened with Ginny, during the battle?" Hermione asked in an attempt to take their minds off the twins. Harry chuckled a little.

"The sneaky little minx," he muttered. "It wasn't a healing salve she took from your bag – it was Polyjuice Potion. Pansy figured out that I was a Horcrux before anyone else did – she hinted at it as early as yesterday when I woke from my nightmare – but she wasn't sure she'd be able to pull off what had to be done in the Forest. She suspected Ginny would be able to do it better, especially since Gin was far more personally invested in the whole thing, and so the two of them switched and became each other, starting sometime during the armistice hour and ending just before Ginny killed the snake."

"So really, Pansy put Ginny in the ideal position to deal with the last Horcrux," Draco concluded.

"Exactly. And they both did a pretty convincing job, too – none of the Death Eaters noticed anything was wrong, and nobody Pansy encountered suspected anything either."

"It was a brilliant plan," Hermione acknowledged. "A plan in which a million things could have gone wrong, but then, that seems to be the case with all of our plans lately, doesn't it?"

"That liquid luck we drank last year must've decided to stick around," Harry joked. He ran a hand through his hair and added, "Any news from downstairs?"

"Padfoot's recovering," Draco replied. "His stab wound reopened a bit during our duel with Bellatrix, but now that he has a chance to rest, he's doing much better. Wormtail's been confirmed dead, and while Lupin's still unresponsive, he's not getting any worse. Snape, though…" He trailed off and swallowed heavily, and Hermione put a gentle hand on his arm. For the first time, Harry saw that Narcissa's ring was finally where it belonged, sparkling gently on Hermione's left hand in the morning sunlight.

"Snape didn't make it," Hermione said softly. "Sirius wasn't as affected when the snake bit him because he was in his Animagus form, but whatever's in the venom is far more damaging to humans than to animals. Madam Pomfrey did her best, but they couldn't get him to St. Mungo's in time."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, and he really was. Snape had been an acerbic, intimidating individual who had never shown Harry more than polite indifference at best, but Harry knew without a doubt that the love Snape had felt for Lily was real, and of course, the man had been Draco's godfather. Harry said a silent 'thank you' to Snape for all he'd sacrificed, and he sincerely hoped that Snape was somewhere he could finally be happy.

"I feel like I hardly knew him," Draco replied, the loss evident in his voice. "He was my godfather, and yet I never really had a chance to know him as much more than my Head of House."

"He was a hero," Hermione said firmly. "Not many people could do what he did for even a day."

"He was," Harry agreed. The trio fell silent once more.

"What now?" Draco asked after several long minutes.

"We regroup," Harry replied. "We regroup, and we rebuild, and we try to make sense of everything we've gone through, impossible though it may seem."

"We'll be alright," Hermione said softly. "We always are, in the end." She took both boys' hands in her own and squeezed.

"Right as usual, Maya," Harry said, turning to give her a fond smile. "Right now, though, I think I'd like a bath – a bath, and some sleep." Hermione smiled back.

"That sounds like as good a starting place as any, don't you think?"

And together, hands still clasped, the three friends left the Astronomy tower and set off to begin the first chapter of their next adventure.

* * *

 _Thus concludes part 7, & the story of our Unexpected Trio._

* * *

 **A/N: And so we've reached the end - one reviewer said of the last chapter that it was a bittersweet feeling to be almost done, & I couldn't agree with the word choice more. On the one hand, I'm excited & proud to have finally made it through, but on the other, I've been working in this AU for so long that I don't want to leave.**

 **Sincerest, warmest thanks to absolutely all of you - whether you've been here from the beginning or jumped in midway through, your support & dedication to this tale has done more for me than you will ever know. When I started part one nearly two years ago now, I never dreamed that the end result would be this big - the stats on these stories are both mind-blowing & humbling, & I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being so unbelievably wonderful. You stuck with me through plot twists & cliffhangers, through dozens of ideas that weren't even thought of 'til halfway through the series, & I can't thank you enough. An extra-special thank you to my youngest sister Julia, who patiently listened to basically every second of this fic (even though she's yet to read any of it), offered suggestions, & kept me going when I was stuck in a rut - this one's for you.**

 **This is the end of the line, as far as this series goes - there will not be an epilogue, & I always planned it that way. Perhaps I'll come back to it somewhere down the line with a one-shot if the inspiration strikes, but for now, we say goodbye.**

 **This is _not,_ however, the end of my writing! I have several other stories just waiting to be written - I'm one of those hopeless people who can't concentrate on more than one story at a time to save my life - one of which is already partly begun, so if you'd like to read more, follow me so you don't miss out on the fun. First up is a postwar Dramione fic, DH compliant minus the epilogue, which will (hopefully) be far more lighthearted than these last several chapters have been - I need a break from writing battle scenes, haha...**

 **For the last time, JKR owns all things Potter, I just play. Thank you all once again, & I hope to see you all again soon! :)**

 **~ Sammy**


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